Jul 2014
For as long as I can remember-
This is where I've lived.
I've never moved.
This house, this room has always been mine.
My mother has always slept on the other side of the wall.
Then why, at two in the morning, do I find myself wishing to go home?
Why do I repeat "I want to go home." over and over.
Tears stream down my cheeks, etching patterns and trails.
Creating a map for me to follow.
But where will it lead me?
This is where I've lived.
I've never moved.
This house, this room has always been mine.
My mother has always slept on the other side of the wall.
Then why, at two in the morning, do I find myself wishing to go home?
Why do I repeat "I want to go home." over and over.
Tears stream down my cheeks, etching patterns and trails.
Creating a map for me to follow.
But where will it lead me?
It's strange, the only home I've ever known- doesn't feel like home to me. I feel like an intruder. My family feels like my family- but I guess the house has never been the same. Not since you left.
