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Homesick

By Gypsie WhitePublished 4 years ago 1 min read

I haven't been home in a year and 4 months.

But it's not what it sounds like. I've gone to the place where I live, nearly every day. I go to work and then go to the address that is listed as my dwelling. I sleep in a house that my name is tied to. I get mail from my mailbox in front of that house every day.

But I haven't been home in a year and 4 months.

Unfortunately, my home isn't as simple as bricks and mortar and a bed. My home told me that falling in love with me was the worst thing that ever happened to him. My home walked out the door and never looked back. My home has cut all ties to me. My home has moved on with his life.

I am home sick every single day. For a home that I will never see again. For a home whose door will never open for me again.

I haven't been home in a year and 4 months.

sad poetry

About the Creator

Gypsie White

I've been writing since before I can remember. I've never had anything published. Honestly, I've never so much as allowed anyone to read what I've written. I've had several people tell me to write to process my emotions and trauma. So I am.

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