Home again, home again.
What is home again?
Home again, to my origin?
That place of lacking youth,
and taunting memories.
Is home again meant to be,
tragically void of love?

Home again, home again.
What is home again?
Home again, to my blood?
That place of summer delusion,
and bittersweet times.
Is home again meant to be,
an occasional fiction?

Home again, home again.
What is home again?
Home again, to my choice?
That place of hidden thoughts,
and tormenting deceit.
Is home again meant to be,
a lovesick tragedy?

Home again, home again.
What is home again?
Home again, to my escape?
That place of bogus smiles,
and buried anger.
Is home again meant to be,
such a desolate substitute?

Home again, home again.
What is home again?
Home again, to my dream?
That place of eternal languish,
and immediately forfeited.
Is home again meant to be,
another stolen fantasy?

Home again, home again.
What is home again?
Home again, is this my home?
A place of nurturing souls,
but not of true understanding.
Is home again meant to be,
always a skeptical endeavor?

Home again, home again.
Where is home again?
Home again, is my guess?
A place that I'm still unsure,
and will constantly question.
Someday perhaps I'll know what
My home again is meant to be.

The new life waiting,
Buds from this mess.
With rough edges,
Created by convulsing
Due to what I cannot overcome.
It blossoms even through
The hardships placed upon me.

More thorns grow with
The amount of pressure
That overwhelms me.
A rose emerges,
With such grace and dignity,
Powering through the life
That was left for me.

I tried to take the thorns off,
To let people in.
And with a steady hum,
They dug into my skin,
Leaving black.
I tried to refuse,
Kicking and fighting back.

I was taken by this rose,
As my destiny foretold.
It grows from my skin, it’s part of me.