I always forgot how to spell home during
The times we spoke and you laughed at the
Simple pronunciation that I could never pin
Down correctly.
It was as if I was saying it while gargling salt water.
The taste of it never felt right
And my mouth was filled with an ocean I could
Never swallow whole.
I never liked the way you teased.
It felt like poetry but the kind that misfires.
I kept insisting I was the intended target
And you kept cackling
Stating I never knew how to even spell home
Let alone feel it.
Years later, I think you were right.
Hostage in my own bed, the light dwindling from
The night sky.
I know I was always expressing it to the wrong person.
And yet tomorrow when the next person comes,
I still hope.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.