a house is not always a home;
it is not always a roof or a building to
come home to everyday.
in this dwelling
i no longer feel at home.
a house is not always a home.
a home is kind arms
luring you in, whispering,
"you are safe here.
you no longer have to be afraid.
trust me."
a house is not always a home.
it is warmth on your cold days.
it is a smile to share on the good days.
it is a reminder that everyday
you have solitude.
your skin is all that you've ever known;
it is the only home you're
guaranteed to have.
a house is not always a home.
but my body will be.
and for me,
it will have to be enough.
