Home
HOME
Home never
felt like this. I have
spent a thousand sleepless
nights trying to go
back to a place
that stopped
existing or maybe never
was. The cove. The
corner in the rocks. The
place where fog catches
the edge and I wrap
myself in its white
blanket. The place
I kept wanting to be
home is really
the place I've been
running from since I stuck
my five year old head
in the rails by the
stairs and wailed while
my dad pried the iron
open with his bare
hands. I would grow
to hate
those stairs. I would
learn to run
from the house that wasn't
a home. That's what
my grandma called it
when she drove me
through the tunnel and
dropped me
off. I’ve been
running ever
since. From vodka
Thanksgivings and afternoon
beatings. Cigarette
ashes burning longer
than my fingers. Basement
secrets. I ran
so hard I kept
running
back into it. Not
today. This new
day. This new
life. Now I run
to get nowhere
because nowhere is
better than an impossible
somewhere. I run
back to myself. I am stars
and asphalt. Dirt
and trees. Wind
and clouds. My mind
the center of a million
unnamed galaxies. I know
how to smile and
laugh and
love when I stop
at this exact moment.
6 pm. Valentine's
Day. My daughter
and I hold
hands. My heart
beats in hers and hers
in mine. This
minute before the sun
sets and we lift
our heads to the sky.
Say it is so
beautiful in the same
breath. Mother
and daughter. This
is home.