Home

Is it a feeling, is it a place, or is it a state? 

A state of mind, or a state of being? 

Or is it simply having a heart with no hate? 

And leading a life that’s ultimately freeing? 

Is it a particular person, like your mom or dad? 

Could it be circling within a sister or brother

Maybe a grandmother, a grandfather, or aunt? 

In your closest community that loves one another?

Or is it with the family you chose? Soul tribes?

The ones that just clicked with you so instantly

And understood you without having to describe

The ones you felt were part of your community

Is it a structure or a foundation? A house, a home?

The one you were born and was raised up in?

Is it the feeling that you, despite where you roam,

You can go back to when you’re full of chagrin?

I see “home” everywhere. I feel it everywhere. 

In people’s eyes and in their hearts.

Through the ideas and stories they share.

But you might not tell every painful part

Or every battle you’ve had to go through

Or the self hate that you felt like to be you

Or how much it took to look and realize you

Have come so far with the miles you flew

You are a beautiful broken piece of art on display.

Your unapologetic performance of authenticity.

And no matter how or what other people say,

Never dumb down your level of complexity.

Because if you have suffered enough

You know it doesn’t matter what your home is

And you have broken society’s restricting cuff

As there is no right answer to this quiz

But your home is only as strong as you are

And the “upgrades” you design and create

Will protect you from life’s bruises and scars

When you finally learn to rid yourself of hate