My mother is one of those people Who buys stupid things with trivial cliches on them Needlepoint pillows with overused sayings And there is a wooden sign hanging from the wall She probably wasted at least 15 dollars on it I pass by it every day But only recently have I started thinking about it It says, "Home is the starting place of love and dreams." Which I find ironic Since this house that I live in is not a home Which I realize is a cliche in itself But it's true This house comes with memories engrained Of my mother yelling and screaming Of me purging and crying So where is my home? Where is my "starting place of love and dreams?" I've made a home in you I want to memorize all of you Count every single freckle on your face And curl up beside you and leave my memories in your brain Your arms wrapped around me is when I'm home Your smile is my home, Your laugh, Your kindness, Telling me the things my mother never meant May be that's why even when I'm in my house And we're not together I can't stop thinking about my home