Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2014
home is where you don't fear moths are lining your bath
home is where you have a plate pretty enough to make you want to finish your meals
home is where your mother's hands tremble as she strokes your father's favourite spot on the old leather couch
home is where your father cries into your mother's old lace curtains
home is where you sit in a messy pile of your childhood memories and watch them burn
don't let me tell you what home is
nissa
Written by
nissa
Please log in to view and add comments on poems