You put up pictures of your mothers home,
Where your best friends, your brothers and you
Were smiling like angels.
Innocence and wonder shining through.
That was your home
And now you are my home.
Nostalgia being neighbourly
Would hit you and me.
It feels warm and inviting ,
Like being wrapped in blankets,
But it suffocates.
It is painful to leave what once was
And I too have pictures to hang
Of the sunsets from my old home and the red moon
Appearing once in a blue moon
And anemoia overwhelming
But I look at you and remember that you're my home.
