Home

There is a place where I live
it has four walls and a roof
but it doesn’t feel like home

There is a place where I sleep
isolated from the world
but it doesn’t feel like home

The detritus of things I buy are here
along with my hairbrush and toothbrush
but it doesn’t feel like home

loneliness and heartache live here, too
they share the bittersweet memories
of the place in which I live

There is a place where I store my food
and my cats sleep all day
but it doesn’t feel like home

Sometimes, I hide in a safe spot
with my eagle blanket, my stuffed monkey,
a pen, and a Star Wars journal

I am semi-comfortable in this place
tears are sometimes shed there,
but I have never felt at home

The Mountain Goats yell out loud
“I want to go home, but I am home”
there is no physical place to rest, to spin the brain down

I just want some peace, peace from myself
where there is no yearning for mild poison
to numb the never-ending pain

Is it even a physical place?
maybe it’s stuffed deep inside my mind
a place where I can be comfortable and feel at home

This is the place where I live
but it has never felt like home
where ever that may be