when i say you are my solace, i do not mean that you are home. you are not a fluffy blanket, a pillow, or a teddy bear i talk to when i am alone. you are not the tub of ice cream i reach out to when i cry, nor the funny videos i binge watch to forget reality.
when i say you are my solace, i do not mean that you are home. you are not the pillars that bear the weight of my foundations to provide stability. you are not the roof i hide under, you can’t shelter me from pain. and even when you protect me from nature, you can‘t ever be the one to stop the rain.
when i say you are my solace, you are
the few steps away from home. you are
the night beach i whisper to, your
crescent moon greets me "hello". your
chilling breeze is the warm embrace
and the sea‘s twinkle i now understand
is your unwavering gaze. you listen in
silence and comfort me when i weep,
and unlike the home that rots by time,
you‘d believe in the wishes i‘d soon
refuse to keep.
you were not sought after,
you weren't bought.
you couldn‘t be replaced
as quickly as a house‘s
address i easily forgot.
