No Longer Homeward

Moving on, Moving out

leaving home, far away. in bed I lay, thinking back to when I was home. Home, what does it mean? a place you feel welcome, a place you belong, a place where the people you love reside? maybe, maybe that is what home means. But what happens when the people you love are scattered far and wide. The people you feel safe with are all in different realms of life. So very far from on another, Including myself. I took myself away from home. I tore away from the comfort and the love of many. Only to replace that love with few. Sometimes the few need you more than the many do. leaving home, running away is how it feels. Moving one without ever really moving on, leaving while still forever holding the ones left behind in your heart. Hold the memories so gently, as if they might might crack and fly away like sand in the wind. Still keeping in touch. But it isn't the same. It won't ever be the same as before. I have left, I have moved on. But my heart, it never will.

Feeling Lonely in Car Full of Memories

Throwing my things into my car at midnight, my family helping so generously. Going to a friends house on my last night in my hometown, staying up til three. taking care of others when I need care too. Never getting it in return until much later in time. That night feeling lost, sinking into my spiral of thoughts, swirling down, down, down. Awake! I wake up later than planned I follow the car in front of me to a distant land. One much different than where I am from, where many years of my life had been lived. I listen to music I used to with friends all alone on this journey. I look to my passenger seat where the stuffed bunny I made with my usual trip companion sits. She is here in spirit I say to myself as I click the button on the bunny and her voice rings out as if she had come with me on the trip I don't return from. I follow the car of friends in front of me all the way to what is almost the sea. My friends I think to myself as one is a boy I met in high school who's charm somehow made up for his neglect and a girl whom I was to live with but hardly knew her myself. The couple drove together for much of the trip until the boy left and the two split. I waited for them to say their goodbyes standing with my backpack in the hot sun. I had sympathy for them their time together was done. The trip moved on but our hearts did not, mine was at home and hers was with him. We drove in our own minds for a long time. At one point we got stuck in traffic, a delay on the last day to our destination. I sat on top of my car and enjoyed the sunshine upon my face. The men left their vehicles to see what was wrong, the butterflies flitted by without notice of the distress of the people. I watched the leaves on the fall bitten trees fly in the light breeze. Then the cars moved again. Late in the night we arrive to our place empty and quiet. Just us two beginning a new adventure, no longer alone.

The Rain of the Week

I am not used to much rain, it usually goes for a few minutes and stops or it hails. But today is much different, the rain has been coming down non-stop for over a day, the roads are flooding, the leaves are soggy. Oh, but the sound of the rain on the roof of my bedroom it soothes. It soothes the sadness, the insecurities, the feeling of being lost. the rain heals me. The heavens must have known that I am in need of healing. For I am weak, a human. One who makes mistakes and who's heart is heavy most of the time for the chemicals in the brain don't always work. The rain keeps people at home, people like me. people who don't want to talk to strangers, people who feel safe in the confines of their room undisturbed and at peace with the sounds of the Rain of the Week.