the familiar scent of someone's perfume,
or a known voice reaching your ears.
the atmosphere of someplace that held memories of your childhood,
or your mother's hands caressing your face.
re-reading a book that made you reminisce the first time you read it,
or the experience of relishing your favourite chocolate.
on days your house didn't feel like home,
you found them in the arms of another.
when it wasn't a someone, it was some thing.
maybe a pastel-hued sunset,
or the carefree smile of a child passing by,
possibly humming a jolly song unknowingly,
or the whiff of food that you craved.
after all, it really was the little things,
cause amidst all of this, I was safe to say,
that i'm home.
