Home Poem

Home.

What a powerful word…

Home is where the heart is.

In a “Bill Nye” way, it has arteries, blood vessels, a bunch of cells and molecules inside it. It has this weird outside, red and rubbery, that can sometimes gross you out when you’re eating. But on a sentimental level, I do not know where my home, or my heart, is.

I never felt like I truly belonged anywhere. I left my birthplace, and came north, leaving what was my house at birth. Up north, I got sick easily, fell into trouble, and it’s “too cold”. But when I visit Houston, my birthplace, it’s “too hot,” and I cannot stay. The problem with where I thought my home or my heart was had as much to do with some simple comfort as it did “fitting in,” belonging somewhere. I could not stay comfortable in the South, but I cannot fit in within the North. North, North as in the Mid-Atlantic, not the Northeast, or further North, like Canada. I could never see myself accepted in some place like Boston or Connecticut, if I couldn’t be accepted by a single town in Pennsylvania.

Most of the time, I am homesick. But is it for a place that does not exist anymore, or a place that does not exist yet? I am not sure. If it no longer exists-what do I do: Do I hoard the little tidbits of memories and live out my days dreaming? If it does not exist yet-what do I do: Do I work myself to the bone to make it come true? Do I plant myself down and wait until it comes? I do not know.

I could not really know who would be in my heart, in my home. A lot of the time it looks like there is nobody there. Empty, like the inside of an old and worn out shoe, the jalopy of footwear? Or empty, like the inside of an old jug of milk?

But sometimes it feels like there is someone there… sometimes it feels like someone is there, hanging stuff up, picking things up, moving around, doing things. Someone like a friend. Sometimes one friend, or two friends, or maybe three, maybe more. These few people walk around my home, mostly to visit, but it feels so good to have them around. It feels warm. Not as warm as Houston-but warm enough to be a healthy warmth. Sometimes it can feel cool. Not always as cool as the North-but cool enough to make you feel calm. Maybe even feel hip. These people have an important place in my heart… a pretty big room in my home, you can say.

I would not trade that for anything else in the world.