By familiar faces that guide me.
Yet still, I am lost.

But not numb. I feel frightened by the disarming smiles.
Betrayed by the broken promises.

Hurt by the distance.

In my own world. My own house.
Unguarded. Unsafe.


This is NOT home…right? Please don’t let it be so.
I made a mistake. Why must I be shunned?
Beat upon by the belt that is their gaze.
Abused by their silence.
Look at me. I haven’t changed.

Have I? 

Is my home? I ask.

Is the place of elation? Of comfort? Of forgiveness?

It lies within the depths of your eyes.
Those captivating green orbs, scarred by haunting memories of your past.
The addiction. The sweat. The fear.
I see your struggle. I feel your pain as if it were my own.
Your eyes are an endless story.

Where is my home?

Its caught inside the gleam of your smile.
Your echoing laugh, it tells another tale.
One of love. One of desire. One of compassion.
I beg for your voice, for the story of hope.

Where is my home?

Its beneath your skin,
Protected by the impenetrable walls that are your bones.
It is the endless kindness of your soul,
The drum of your body.

Your heart.

My home is you.
The man who gave me his all.
Who gave me life. 

You’re breathing but you’re not living.
Just spirited along; pushed, dragged, pulled
On your feet, to work, to bed. Repeat. 

The bi weekly visits I’ll treasure forever.
You’re the closest thing to home I’ll ever have.

My home is you.


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If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741