Take me home
not to walls, windows or broken doors,
but to the quiet room inside my ribs
where I once knew peace.

Take me where my breath
is not an apology,
where I can lay down my name,
my masks,
my borrowed sorrows.

Let me return to the place
before desire learned my face,
before fear built its fences
around the child of light I was.

Take me to that soft, unguarded place
the soul’s first country,
where I am whole again,
and the world cannot touch me.

Take me home,
to the beginning that never ended,
to the belonging that needs no proof.
There
I will rest in the arms of my own being.