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Home Sweet Home
They say that: "Home is where the heart is".
But what happens when for so long you didn't have a home?
And your heart was broken in two?
What do you have then?
I never got an answer and in all honesty still can't find one.
I tried turning a small hotel room into a home.
And I tried mending my shattered and dead heart.
But it hurt too much.
Because there was always the emptiness inside of my chest.
Longing from what I had but didn't anymore.
A lost love that was based on nothing but madness and lies.
Something that took me over a year to stop denying.
And to stop breaking my heart over it every single time.
And then the smallness of that hotel room.
It made my bones stick together.
It made me feel like the walls were closing in.
Like I was falling down the rabbit hole.
And that was the madness.
Falling but never stopping--
Sleeping but never dreaming--
Dreaming but never waking--
But that was then-- Over a year ago.
Broken hearts have finally healed.
And I can say her name without wanting to burn the taste off my tongue.
And my heart doesn't ache when I think of what I could've or should've said.
Done right or wrong.
Or not have done at all.
Sometimes I have nightmares but that's nothing new.
I'll always have nightmares.
It's what people with PTSD do.
I've lost more things since moving into this place.
I've been put down beyond reason.
My past, my problems, threatened hospitalization thrown in my face.
But it's a home and inside it a Christmas tree glows bright with lights.
That shimmer on the pretty bows on the gifts wrapped in green and red that lie beneath it's branches and on it's skirt.
Making me bounce with a giddy feeling that one day my son will have.
The idea of opening presents on Christmas morning.
The magical glow in the dawn of childhood.
And the house is filled with the cries and laughs of my almost one year old son.
My boyfriend plays video games and holds me while I sleep.
I hug my son every morning and kiss him goodnight every night.
My mother and I argue but we still love each other.
This my home.
Finally after so long.
So much pain, and lose, and heartbreak.
I have a home, rough around the edges but still a home.
This is my home sweet home.
And it's where my heart now resides.
But what happens when for so long you didn't have a home?
And your heart was broken in two?
What do you have then?
I never got an answer and in all honesty still can't find one.
I tried turning a small hotel room into a home.
And I tried mending my shattered and dead heart.
But it hurt too much.
Because there was always the emptiness inside of my chest.
Longing from what I had but didn't anymore.
A lost love that was based on nothing but madness and lies.
Something that took me over a year to stop denying.
And to stop breaking my heart over it every single time.
And then the smallness of that hotel room.
It made my bones stick together.
It made me feel like the walls were closing in.
Like I was falling down the rabbit hole.
And that was the madness.
Falling but never stopping--
Sleeping but never dreaming--
Dreaming but never waking--
But that was then-- Over a year ago.
Broken hearts have finally healed.
And I can say her name without wanting to burn the taste off my tongue.
And my heart doesn't ache when I think of what I could've or should've said.
Done right or wrong.
Or not have done at all.
Sometimes I have nightmares but that's nothing new.
I'll always have nightmares.
It's what people with PTSD do.
I've lost more things since moving into this place.
I've been put down beyond reason.
My past, my problems, threatened hospitalization thrown in my face.
But it's a home and inside it a Christmas tree glows bright with lights.
That shimmer on the pretty bows on the gifts wrapped in green and red that lie beneath it's branches and on it's skirt.
Making me bounce with a giddy feeling that one day my son will have.
The idea of opening presents on Christmas morning.
The magical glow in the dawn of childhood.
And the house is filled with the cries and laughs of my almost one year old son.
My boyfriend plays video games and holds me while I sleep.
I hug my son every morning and kiss him goodnight every night.
My mother and I argue but we still love each other.
This my home.
Finally after so long.
So much pain, and lose, and heartbreak.
I have a home, rough around the edges but still a home.
This is my home sweet home.
And it's where my heart now resides.
Published 24th Dec 2013
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