Home
A Hero’s Journey

Home, a four-letter word I couldn’t wait to escape.
A place from which I ran
after I knew I could no longer stay.
The beginning of my hero’s journey,
reluctant to begin.
Home, a place where they say
you can never return
because it will never stay the same.
So I left you, believing
our paths would never cross again.
I went out to find new adventures.
To find new mentors.
Someone to teach me
to create a new place to call my own.
I traveled as a stranger,
awkwardly trying to find a home.
A purpose, a new town, a new family,
a hole that fit my peg
or, more likely, a place to shave
the edges of my peg
to fit the hole of the world
that my mind could never quite make shape.
I never expected that through the chaos
and lessons of the mistakes
that I never meant to make,
it would be here,
in this foreign city
of the sliver of a lunar shape,
that I would find reminders
of the home from which I left
but would now need to return
and assimilate.
People that would remind me of home.
A new best friend,
who on the surface would remind me
so much of the one I left behind,
but now here I could show to him
the love that the inexperience of my youth
got in the way.
But now I am older and wiser,
but not so different
that despite our decades difference,
I am transformed back
to that familiar home.
To you, my angel of the past,
I say thank you, thank you, thank you.
With the clicking of the reverse clock
you took me back,
giving me the opportunity
to slay the croc that ate at me
for not being the friend
I always wish I had.
And to you,
the quiet-talking girl
with many things to say.
You don’t fight to be anything
but the substance of yourself.
Your edge hardened like mine
because of where we are from, CT.
But when I move away from the noise
that surrounds the room
and take the opportunity to engage,
I hear a softness
that you may have never wanted to betray.
And while I am not the “D” you seek,
I see you. I appreciate you.
You have centered me.
It was here,
in this crescent city,
I have found a higher plane
and a proper will to maintain.
About the Creator
Jesse Lee
Poems and essays about faith, failure, love, and whatever’s still twitching after the dust settles. Dark humor, emotional shrapnel, occasional clarity, always painfully honest.



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