I've been always searching for a place to call home. Maybe it's human nature and our innate desire for belonging, my disconnect from my homeland and hometown, or overall choosing to live as an outlier and constant traveler. I searched in cities, countries, and people until I found out it's within where we must find that connection.
You were like home to me.
Every nook and cranny.
The curve of the stairs, the feel of the tile, the smell within its walls.
“You hang up, no, you hang up.”
The summers that were endless, again.
Not wanting to wake up for school, again.
Hoping this would never end, again.
A nomad drifting, garden stating. Constant searching for that glimpse of familiarity. Or was it safety?
I saw you. You saw me. Even tho briefly.
Like James Baldwin said, home is not a place but an irrevocable condition.
Then I’m alone again.
I wished home was you, again.
Until I fall, again.