Home is that place where everything is the same. It has been for a while. Or home is where everything is different and it has been for a while. Just the word home brings you to the place you think of as home. With your best friend or your dogs. In your room or by the beach. Home is comfort. The soft hum of the word home makes you feel like a match was lit in a tundra, getting dimmer with each snowflake until it goes out, not returning until the next time it's said. Home. Home is love and peace. With animals and the wind. Home is where you can sigh and talk whether someone is there to listen or not. You might look out the window and daydream about home inside your own house. Home is the reassuring pat on the back from your best friend or someone you love. It's the sounds of the forest, echoing through your ears like a chorus nobody wrote. Home is a lifetime in a few minutes or a few minutes made like a lifetime. Home is a concert of life, filled with desire and shouts followed by silence and complete peace. There's so much to say about home, it'd take a lifetime to finish, but it's where everyone's story starts. It's where this story starts. Home.
Hey my lovelies. This is a new story (obviously) that I'm giving a shot at. It's a collection of places I've been and places important to me. Lot's of imagery and figurative language will be used throughout the book. I guess it's kinda poetry but not quite. Creds to Twenty One Pilots for some of the sentences. Annnyyywaaayyss, enjoy and comment what home is to you. Until next time lovelies. *waves*
