There was always light.
But they called her a black hole for a reason.
No one could fill it.
Drawn in to drown in her existence.
The constellation that mapped out your last adventure.
They only knew what they saw from a distance.
The plan but not the actual destination.
Home was never shelter, never a place.
It was acknowledging who you are.
And loving its entirety.
It's something you make for yourself.
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 8:30 AM UTC
There was always light.
But they called her a black hole for a reason.
No one could fill it.
Drawn in to drown in her existence.
The constellation that mapped out your last adventure.
They only knew what they saw from a distance.
The plan but not the actual destination.
Home was never shelter, never a place.
It was acknowledging who you are.
And loving its entirety.
It's something you make for yourself.
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