Home isn’t a place, it is a feeling
It’s the blanket of stars that cover me each night
The sky is a canopy of kisses
Home is the rush of the ocean waves
As they crash into the solid rocks of the shore
I notice while walking by
I feel the ocean mist spray my face
I taste salt water on my lips
Home is a steady ship in a river of doubts
Home embraces me tightly and allows me to cry
All the pain I carry inside
Home soothes me
It melts the ice cave I created for myself
In order to have the illusion of my own protection and safety
Home doesn’t judge me
It waits like flowers ready to bloom
After heavy doses of snow have melted
In order for the buds to finally reach their true potential
My home is the universe and I am only a tiny piece of it
Home is the beating of my heart
As it races with fear while I run away
From all of my troubles into darkness, seemingly alone.
I test my surroundings to find wool in my hands,
This reminds me of safety and security,
I emerge from the enclosed quarters of a closet,
To smell spices and sweets,
Home is a warm and full belly,
Contentedly, I could lose myself in a favorite book
Or the mind of an intellectual,
When I am tired of the indoors,
I explore my world and step into rain puddles.
I lose myself in my childish splashes
I fling my hair into my face
I am singing my favorite song but also laughing freely
I stop to see an animal rustle in the bushes behind me
Friend or foe, I think to myself.
It doesn’t matter
I see a rainbow highlighting the sky above me
I am home; I smile
I watch as the spiders make webs on my windowsill
I wonder about their social structures
And what possibly they are trying to catch
I do not like to think of myself as naive
Though my reality is quite like a daydream
I see the world as if I were living on a cloud
Now that cloud is surrounded by thin layers of silk
The webbing twitching with a fly
And the spider rushes from its secret cove
To cover up its fresh meal
I thought the sound of my voice would puncture my ear drums,
You did not hear me
I thought I could call you
But you do answer your phone
I thought I could write you
But you do not respond
On your time is when I have you
I thought I could make you feel my pain,
So I grabbed you and held you close to me
I closed the physical gap between us
But you never felt my pain
You never heard my pain
I decided to make you see it
I sliced my skin open
I let the wounds bleed
But you never saw the red
And I took your hands to my wounds
You caressed my punctured skin
But you never felt my pain
I let myself die the last time in your arms, and when I died, I stopped caring about showing myself to you
I walked away from the only person I cared about more than myself. I’ll never know if you walked out after me or simply watched me walk away while you held my broken heart in your hands, still oblivious to my pain.
When I miss you, I smoke.
I let the cigarette linger on my lips,
A reminder of your taste.
I hold the smoke in
And keep holding until I can bare it no longer.
I slowly exhale and wonder about you.
Where are you?
Making me guess, I think makes you feel powerful.
More like a man,
Taking care of business
But my heart should be your business too,
And more so than the chasing game.
I miss you, and so I smoke.
And hope the fire scorches my lungs until I can no longer breathe
Because not breathing is better than the absence of you.
Your body is art. I never knew it until the day you showed me. The colors on your skin allowed my imagination to take over. Somebody took the time to emphasize the beauty within you. How lucky they are!