(Disclaimer: Not a traditional poem but I think it’s closer to the spoken word poetry category)
Decade, upon decade; I tell fate
Being loved by strangers catches me off guard,
Surprises me- “Is this what it is supposed to feel like?”
Is it really like they show in the movies?
Sisters, brothers, fathers and mothers
Is home really just people, who know and even care
about which side of the bed you like most.
Oh, I wouldn’t know, so don’t ask me how.
The only home that I have ever felt
lives outside of my house.
Out there, separated; from my blood.
Because on the genetic code map in these cells,
somehow, home was never marked.
I am sorry, dear home, for getting scared so easily
Not knowing where to go when you are not in my sights.
For I am still learning, how to receive all this love
that you so freely give me
As though I am actually as amazing as you say.
I try to hold on to the little amount these walls taught
Here, love was hiding and shutting up.
But then again, you are not like these walls.
You are kinder and you care.
You actually know which side of the seat I like most,
and how I sleep talk or “sleep type” sometimes.
I chuckle, and then sigh as I walk back inside
and these walls are still as cruel as before I met you.
I’m about to whisper to fate:
“Please make this stop, before I forget how to give love too.”
But I don’t, I can’t.
Cause you’re looking right at me
Smiling across the room.
And we both know, we finally understand
this is what home feels like.