Home

By Jillian S

I ache for home. My heart yearns 

for it. But everyday, my body, my

soul, my self drifts further

and further away from any home

I’ve ever known, and I’m less

confident I will ever be able to

turn and drift back. I’ve never

known a proper, stable anchor to

my life, my childhood. I’ve never

felt welcoming, kind comfort

to my hurt soul and body. I’ve never

felt at home. And yet, I move

around and across, in search of a

place to stay, a place to be. As I

move, I leave a piece of myself

where I was; I drop a part of my

heart in a place I wish I could stay,

but thank god I’m leaving. And

eventually, I lose myself. I lose the

aspects of me I cherished so

much, I lose my past, my

memories, my love for myself,

because I don’t know who I am. I

am so lost in this whirlpool of

what once was, what I could’ve

been, and at the end of the day, I

am still nobody but the

experiences around me. But who

am I if I don’t remember my

experiences? Then, I am nothing.

I am nobody. I am somebody I can

build from the ground up, but that

person I will have built is not me.

I am someone I do not recognize.

I am me.