... and may the abundance do not starve you, dearest.
safe travels.

Sometimes I wish I
could go to Hogwarts.
Magic would be
wonderful, but the
real enchantment would
be my House.
I imagine basking
in that Ravenclaw
common room
surrounded by others
like me.
That is the
true fantasy.

A meaningless term
It is misinterpreted to be a building
It is a feeling

I would wonder why I seeked for it for so long and yet haven't found it

It is a feeling of belonging.
The love that raise one
The care that allow one to grow
The support that keep one in hope

It is home

Do others feel like this every time?
As if it’s something of actual substance,
A real reason to yearn,
A real reason to hunger,
As if for another form of sustenance.
Do others feel like this with a passing glance?
As if you’ve known them from the start,
A true sense of familiarity,
A true sense of belonging,
As if they’ve always weighed on your heart.
Do others feel like this every time?

I never had.

You don't deserve to suffer
You can start over
Start over start over start over
Begin again
Leave
You don't belong here/ need to stay
Where do I belong then?
Not at home, not here, not anywhere?

A weapon that’s finely honed—
not more than a wire, a knife.
Nowhere on Earth I belonged,
until you invaded my life.

Around me, your arms wrap with comfort;
warmth spreading; hold’s steady, no effort.

Throughout, all’s familiar, safe.
My self (for what I always longed)—
no longer a weapon, a knife—
a man, fully, finally owned.

you stitch me together with moon cotton,

stardust stuck between the threads.

you bandage my raw wounds

with your favorite constellations.

when I’m hurting,

you kiss my head,

and intertwine the planets with my hair;

a daisy chain of celestial bodies.

you lay me down among the ghost town of rocket ships

and dead stars

and you whisper.

“darling,” you say,

“andromeda’s got nothing on you.”