Home
Some people can recognize
A tree or a front yard
and know
they've made it home
The walk from the car door
To the front porch
Becomes habitual
Instead of intentional
They get lost in the
Contentment of familiarity
But what happens when you
find yourself
So adrift, so off-course
That you've worn a path in the circle you find yourself walking in
What if the place you're looking for,
Your home
Was never really home After all
But rather a false sense of security
Wrapped up
In a pretty pink ribbon
On top of the layers
Of gripping manipulation
How many circles can I walk in
Before I give up looking?
How long before I'm lost for good?
Home for me
Is not the familiar walk
To the front door
Or the yard with overgrown grass
that makes weeds look like bushes
Home is a sea of senses
Blending together in perfect harmony
Home is walking in
And seeing red
Red skillet
Red chair
And my favorite redheads
Home is the smell of
Fancy hand soap
Fresh laundry
Fragrant candles
And farty brussel sprouts
Home is the first sound you hear
A chuckle
A musical
The clearing of a throat
Our favorite tv show
Home
In a nutshell
Is freedom
Freedom to laugh
To cry
Or maybe both at the same time
To yell and to vent
Without the burden of shame
Or regret
So home
You see, is more
Than the tree
Or the porch
Those things could vanish
And leave you stranded
Home is laughter
And friendship
That won't leave you lost
It is safety and belonging
That says
“You are okay”
It is the weight of a burden being Lifted off your shoulders
Home is love
Jan 7, 2018
Jan 7, 2018 at 10:31 PM UTC
Home
Some people can recognize
A tree or a front yard
and know
they've made it home
The walk from the car door
To the front porch
Becomes habitual
Instead of intentional
They get lost in the
Contentment of familiarity
But what happens when you
find yourself
So adrift, so off-course
That you've worn a path in the circle you find yourself walking in
What if the place you're looking for,
Your home
Was never really home After all
But rather a false sense of security
Wrapped up
In a pretty pink ribbon
On top of the layers
Of gripping manipulation
How many circles can I walk in
Before I give up looking?
How long before I'm lost for good?
Home for me
Is not the familiar walk
To the front door
Or the yard with overgrown grass
that makes weeds look like bushes
Home is a sea of senses
Blending together in perfect harmony
Home is walking in
And seeing red
Red skillet
Red chair
And my favorite redheads
Home is the smell of
Fancy hand soap
Fresh laundry
Fragrant candles
And farty brussel sprouts
Home is the first sound you hear
A chuckle
A musical
The clearing of a throat
Our favorite tv show
Home
In a nutshell
Is freedom
Freedom to laugh
To cry
Or maybe both at the same time
To yell and to vent
Without the burden of shame
Or regret
So home
You see, is more
Than the tree
Or the porch
Those things could vanish
And leave you stranded
Home is laughter
And friendship
That won't leave you lost
It is safety and belonging
That says
“You are okay”
It is the weight of a burden being Lifted off your shoulders
Home is love
Leaving my mom’s house was scary and relieving at the same time. College was a terrifying adventure that I was diving into. My first year I met incredible women who loved me deeply and became my roommates. They redifined what home is to me.
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