All the rage back home



 I want to go home 

but somehow somewhere in me 

I am convinced that I don't have a home 

Unlike some of you, I don't believe home to be a person 

I believe home is a place or motion that brings happiness, amazing silence, 

the feeling of belonging, being loved, being cherished, and being adored for being you. 

I have this rage to go back home 

And I don't know which road to take 

Or which room to enter 

Or which person to turn to. 

Maybe it's going back to things that make us feel enough, 

Heard, seen, and considered. 

Maybe it's moving out 

To a new neighborhood where everything seems new and strange 

And you got to like the process 

Being excited and being scared 

Maybe it's buying a new plant 

And water it every day with the hope of growing it to the house's roof. 

Maybe it's ignoring every noise around you 

Be the crazy and weird A** you 

Or maybe it's finding the realest, willing to live and die for you 

And be there for the highs and the lows 

Maybe it's forgiving the parent or the sibling you feel like they had something against you 

your entire existence 

Maybe it's turning to God 

Maybe it's where we find light when the world grows dark

Maybe there is no home, there are just people and places that bring hope and happiness. 

Maybe there is a home and it is within you. 




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