Home is not welcoming.
Home does not want me here;
It allows me to live under its roof but
It will not let me forget.

Home is shame;
It is fear and guilt and regret.
It is the sound of
“You could do better”
And
“You are not enough”

Home stays still
It tells you to stay with it
In a way that your body won’t allow
You are squirming in place
About to burst, staying still.

Home has changed
It wasn’t always like this
It has silenced;
Poisoned our roots
And cut our wings.

Home is Home.
Your place of return.
It is safe under here
Protecting you from
The Outside World.

He hasn't changed a bit
He was content even when he didn't have much
He never complained
Today he has almost everything
And yet he's so humble and polite
I wish I could be more like him...

I’ve had this snowflake.

Something so delicate,
pure and unique,
resting upon my open palm.

Such preciousness,
I’d never want
to lose it to the passing gale
or the spiteful sun.

So I held it in a clench.
And I’ve held it like that
ever since.

In my fist,
forever it will live.

Never again
will I hold it
in an open hand.

Because I’m afraid.
I’m afraid if I did,
then I would know,
for sure that it had gone.

That it had melted
by the warmth
of my grip
and slipped away quietly
through my fingers,
and into the night.

You were asleep
You love God
But you didn't wake up to pray
as you wake up to check
If she have sent you a message

I look blue.
Yellow when I laugh
Red when I think
Black when I love