pretend I’m good at leaving 
(it’s stoic
strong
sturdy.. a well built house. I will leave because I have no roots. I am not the beams supporting this empty home)

But I’ve been in the same place my whole life 
(I don’t know what this means
other than I could get blown away with the wind and miss these streets)

Speeding down paths I never knew existed.
My troubled mind and troubled heart always had you for company. I could have died in your arms. I was at home finally when I was close enough to your heart that I could hear its beats.

It seems odd now that I have to stay away. That your arms are a shield around the very heart I helped mend, which was as much yours as mine. That I never took back my heart from your *****, where it will always stay.

And though I may become bitter, or I may try and erase you from my head, you will always be there. Like a meteorite on earth, you hit me at full speed, right down to my core. I was changed in ways I couldn't have imagined possible.

I'm homesick now. I try find you in other people. I try building new homes. But I buried my heart near yours and that is where it will always stay. I could have died in your arms. I was at home. Finally.

Hard to feel homesick when you've never really felt at home

I carry many things. All of them serve a specific purpose and are equally important.

I carry some things to take life...
A rifle, a pistol, grenades, and a knife.

I carry some things to save life...
A bullet resistant vest, a 9 line, and a medical kit.

And I carry some things to guide me when I'm lost...
A glow star and a heart shapped rock.

The glow star for when my path is dark and I've lost all light. It will always illuminate my path and guide me back.

The heart shapped rock etched with "Joy." To remind me I'm loved and when I'm scared, to remember you are my rock.

These things are my tools. But most importantly, these things are my way to fulfill my promise to you.

To always come home to you and hold you in my arms.

the aroma of the dead and dying
lingers heavy in my bed,
yesterdays shirt and tomorrows hate draped across a chair like falling flowers,
like the ones on my desk, picked
with joy and anger, but that has long since faded and wilted,
giving way to the dead and dying, like me,
wrapped tight in blankets,
clinging to the tiny voice of mother, on the other end of the phone,
repeating the refrain, the chorus, homage to the homesick,
"Everything will be all right, with time."

Grass-stained shirt hems,
     your mother's scrawl inside your collar, faded.
Scuffed knees,
     not quite bleeding.
Too far away from home,
     swimming in your reflection in your watery cup of tea.
Ripped up notebooks,
     a writer's love ignited.
Rough wine on the banks of the canal,
     crying, laughing, tumbling still.

I wasn't born here
though this is where I spent most of my life
and where all my friends are
I used to visit my family in Puerto Rico
but it's been six years since I last saw them
I planned on going back this summer to see them
but I can't
I realized I may never go back
my aunt, cousin and uncle are coming here
and there will be no reason to go back
my grandma will come visit us
instead of us seeing her
but I miss the beach
and rain forests
I miss the mountains
the warmth
the view
I miss the food
and the crowded cities
and the street vendors that came with it
I miss the smell of the ocean
and the forest
the ice cream and guava jelly donuts
god how I crave the taste of home
I miss the friendly people
and stacked houses
and riding in the cab of my uncles truck
I want to swim in the waterfalls
and come across the ice cream man
while we walk through the forest
and buy mango ice cream from his cart
I want to tan on the beach
while a man gets his Cheetos stolen by a bird
and a group of friends blares music from giant red speakers
I want to walk along the shore barefoot
sand squished between my toes
and the wind scenting me with the ocean and forest
I want to sit on my grandma's porch
and laugh with my family
and watch as a Chameleon crawls across the railing
changing colors as it runs by unnoticed
and most of all
I want to wake up every morning
to the smell of breakfast
and my family being noisy and laughing
trying to get things done and bumping into each other
teasing each other about being clumsy
and planning what to do for the day already
but knowing we'll end up winging it anyway
just doing what we want when we want
I miss my little island
and I miss the joy and excitement it always brings me
sometimes I wonder why we stayed here
when we had family waiting for us to return
and we so obviously couldn't stay away for long
I miss everything about
my beautiful little island

Please, take me away to somewhere that feels like home.

Suffocating inside this monotonous routine.
Surrounded by ignorance and lack of correct communication.
Stuck behind boundaries like I am no more than sheep.
I am here voluntarily, I am here for myself.
Counting down the days until I escape for the precious few days I can ******* own space again.
Remember, I am here for myself.

*-dh