I am so homesick,
And for what home?
Sick of trying to find the way
To where? To who?

And I think the idea of home
Is keeping my soul at bay
From turning blue
Or from falling into the abyss

Because I am so homesick,
Yet home is an illusion
A lover's rotten hope
For a pleasant eternal rest

my mom called, i cried by the dhall, on facetime
been thinking about how lucky we are to be alive
even if to deal with mornings and swollen eyes
even if dad's always on the night shift, even with
this big rift caused by the distance and the lack of time
just because we made out once doesn't mean you're mine
i got glimpses of a pink top, my blanket of a jacket
i bet it would look classier if you were wearing it
but you're distant and cold and partying is getting old
i'm forever out of polaroid film and cheap distractions
so i took an amtrak home, straight from south station
the flight back to boston was short but still exhausting
and when i walk home alone, the silence is unsettling
seems we're both better than i thought at method acting

This here is my home,
metal sides of cold.
Death drips,
from the roof and mold.

This here is my home,
I run away far with my car.
To find myself parked,
staring through the dark.

This here is my home,
the walls mutter judgement,
charred with abandonment.

This here is my home,
It's gone now,
Burnt to the ground.

This here was my home.

There's so many different paths I want to run down,
Different places I yearn to see.
I'd like to live somewhere beautiful
Where I can simply be

I fight with myself over the fantasies I keep,
Sometimes I'm sure I'll live somewhere far,
I could have a chicken or two,
My dog could enjoy a huge yard.

Other times I know deep down,
I need convenience and I'd surely fail
Without being somewhere crowded,
Delivery is a privilege.

I don't want the middle between these two places,
Because suburbia was depressing,
Living only two inches away from a bustling family,
I didn't like the times I lived with mine there.

I'd need space undoubtedly.
Then the absurdity starts showing,
I think to myself.. I'll find an abandoned city
Maybe a desserted town like the ones tiktok shows me.

I could pretend I'm in my own story
And the empty streets would be my own
I could wander these houses and see what was left behind...
I think it sounds silly but, it always comes to mind.

If I could live in the house of my dreams
It would be somewhere unimaginable
Underneath the deepest seas.
I'd have glass walls, and a ceiling made of stars

I'd wake up to see jellyfish blooms
And sit in awe, nothing to do
I could swim to the surface somehow
And watch meteors fall

I think what I truly desire
Is somewhere comfortable
Where I can imagine these wishes
Without being bothered by time, or people who don't really care

Or maybe I belong on another planet,
Because I feel alien everywhere.

stuffed with importance
my five year old is trailed home
                              by the full moon

they say home is a place,
but for me 'tis a taste.
they say it is where you grow,
but for me 'tis where you go.
they say that home is where you felt loved,
but that i knew not of.
they say that home is the memories of a childhood,
but i guess my memory's not so good.
they say that home is where you know every turn,
but that is the place that makes my heart churn.
they say that home is the place where your life came true,
but for me, home is with you.

A trace of light
That's all you and I look for
when those mountains fade
behind descended clouds
and that ache in our shoulders
crumbles under the fire of this rain

the moon and all its pieces
lost to all these thoughts
you and me, the same and most different awake and restless
the silver lining of this charcoal moon
is getting harder to find

until comes this eruption of warmth
and a storm of pattering fear
that if I start counting seconds
you might disappear
so, I guess it goes without saying
everything you've always known

these nights go by in wonder
of how to build you a home

It’s raining
In this place that doesn’t rain
This place that’s made of dust
Rocky and bright
It’s raining
And I’m crying
The trees are being watered
As I am withering
Life is being given to death
Barren land
Empty scenes
And I’m dying
In the rain where it shouldn’t be raining
Rain that is not like home
Let me go home
The home that I left
The dungeon I escaped
Let me go back
I want to go back
Where pain made sense
Where rain was supposed to rain
Where tears were supposed to be shed
I want my mother to hug me while she screams
Bruises and bad dreams
I want my father to leave me while I weep
Unwilling to see
I want that pain
Anything over my vacant brain
I want to feel again
Anything
I was invisible
Forgettable
So completely free
My mind was mine
It wandered and it dreamed
Please
Put me out of this empty misery
Take me back home where nowhere feels safe
I want rain where there should be rain
Pain where there should be pain

god forbid, but there's no way to deny it. juliet's family had perfected the art of chaos. it was not just a mere event, but it was their way of life.

mornings turn into a journey of walking on a maze of landmines. and family dinners were an event to behold. the white wheat of rice flew like confetti, pieces of vegetables and fruits ricocheted like bullets, and her cats were forever in fear of an imminent earthquake.
god forbid, but she couldn't just escape the relentless storm from her family. if you asked her to define what's normal, she'd probably draw you a sketch of a random line and label it "home sweet home".

juliet yearned for an escape like a sailor lost in an ocean, longing for the calming waves of the sea. each day felt like a battle against the tide of noise. she'd die for silence, for a moment to collect her thoughts without interruption. her room, once her sanctuary, had actually become a battleground of noise. her favorite songs blared through the walls, while her favorite video game conquests echoed like a distant thunder. it felt like a castaway on her own island, drowned and surrounded by a sea of hurls.

desperately seeking a haven of solitude, the constant waves that took her, leaving her like a mere shell of who she once was, part of her, hoped for a place— a place that she could call her home.