Where the Head Lies

Sun, 06/29/2014 - 20:12 -- Cinnp

Location

I have never owned the roof above my head,
And that in itself is rather sobering.
From birth I have been renting my right to exist in this world,
And thus home took a new meaning.
It was never defined by copied keys,
But by the conversations,
The arguments, the broken dishes that make up the memories.


In recent years home has turned inside out,
And the broken glass has overtaken the flow of words.
But from this I have learned that home cannot be found in other human beings,
As our ribs are fragile structures that cannot withstand the winter.

Home isn't bought and it isn't owned.
We do not reside within it, but it resides within us.

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