I've not been active here for a while, each time I eventually visit here, I end up reading through people's blog, I start thinking of how to reach out to others then I run out without doing anything, but I wrote this piece few days ago and decided to share.
Some of us have a place we can crawl back to after all the crisis we encounter and feel safe there, we call it home yet there are those who don't
Home, one place I wish to be and to have
To hold the broken pieces of my fragile bones and lay them down to peaceful sleep.
To hear the whisper of my mother's thrilling voice as she gently run her hands on my head filled with thoughts of how beautiful the stars have come to be, of how the trees can't help but prove the awesomeness of creation in their wave
Home, where the faint picture of he and I who drew life from a bleeding cord hangs in my mind like a dirty old fan I watched and nurtured for years and couldn't let go, because that's where I built my home, on the dusty blades that spread memories of a part of my flesh thrown to the earth
Home, beneath the deep trenches of my lonely mind
Away from the scars that keep unfolding, dying, healing and dying again because happiness is a scarce commodity and you only find it in your decisions too hard to make
Home, silence seems deafening but voices are echoing, confusion sets in and walls are crumbling in my head
Take the voices, keep the silence because I've built my own terrace with bricks of solitude and silence was the only friend that came running in when my home was set ablaze and reduced to a tomb
Home, it's in my eyes when I wink at the butterflies dancing around the flowers in the field
It's in my ears when I swallow the melodies of the birds as they sojourn back to their nest
It's in my head, a picture of it already broken and pieces lost to the breeze
But home is where your heart roams back after the chaos and that's one place I wish to be and to have