Sometimes I Forget

Sometimes I forget I am not at home;

I forget that I cannot come out of my isolation.

I forget I cannot run into my father’s warm embrace,

Or that I cannot kiss my mother’s soft cheek.

Sometimes I forget my friends are not near;

I forget that my sisters are not here,

Or that I cannot run home.

Sometimes I forget the definition of home.

Is it where you lay your head?

Is it where you feel loved?

Or is it where you feel most like yourself?

Sometimes I forget.

Sometimes I forget I cannot go home;

I forget that I cannot let down my walls,

Or that this is not my home.

Sometimes I forget how worried my parents are;

I forget I am an adult now,

Or that I have so much responsibility.

Sometimes I forget the sound of my best friend’s laugh;

I forget how it feels not to be worried,

Or that I am not lonely.

Sometimes I forget God is always watching;

I forget to be humble,

Or that I deserve nothing.

Sometimes I forget my self-worth;

I forget how loved I am,

Or that my presence means something to people.

Sometimes I forget people are watching,

So I laugh freely,

Sing at the top of my lungs,

Kiss my friends on the cheek,

And love plenty.

Sometimes I forget to put up my walls;

I forget people enjoy seeing through the holes of my defense,

Or that I have no reason to have walls.

Sometimes I forget.