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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