home
i have been so busy
or kept myself so busy?
too busy to breathe
to contemplate
to think
the moments i’ve had i sat and one thought
kept penetrating my mind
home
what is home?
the platitude of home is where the heart lies
came to mind first
and questions followed
never allowing myself to really finish those moments
well, here i am now
in this moment
trying again
as i feel i must
yet unclear why
so here it goes
home is where the heart lies
but what if your heart seems to be free falling into nothingness?
but what if you somehow forgot along the way that your heart is more then just an organ
more then just there to care for others?
but what if your heart has always been so unreliable leading you …
leading you …erm…me …to where i am?
not that there is anything wrong with where i am, quite tho opposite
but, but rather lonely
in those moments i allow myself way to seldom
ok ok focus…
home is where the heart lies
ist’s just not lying anywhere
not lying down at all
my heart is hmmm missing, i suppose?
na, not missing either
it is too big that it exploded into a million peace’s
all alive and well somewhere with everybody
and maybe i am just looking for a little piece left for
myself
still, doesn’t really answer my proverbial question
or does it?
home
is home where you are born?
is home where you lived the longest or the deepest?
is home where you’ve had the most pleasurable memories
or is home where one escaped to?
is home a bond between people?
if so, love comes in all shapes what people?
friends? yeah surely but what if they’re living scattered all over the world?
family? whoa family, an entire different subject matter to ponder over… but what bloodfamily i would consider still part of my life, still me still searching for this home