My Home

He was once my home; the one place
Where I felt safe, secure and proud
Of the skin I lived in my entire life.
The big windowpanes I used to trace
With my hands are gone. The clouds
And tension is thicker than any knife

That cuts through all the loud noise.
His arms made me feel like the roof
Would never collapse, but as soon
As he left to find his home and toys
To play with somewhere else poof
Went my home with him. The moon

That hung above our heads was gone
Too. What is left is a heartbreak like
Nothing else, but I realize he was not
Just my home, but he was the dawn
Before the sunrise. He was the strike
Of vivid lightning. He was the knot

In my stomach telling me something
Was definitely wrong because how
Can one person become my home?
Especially when I truly want to cling
To him, but will take off and allow
Me to cry all on my own. He roams,

And forgets me in the middle of my
Storm that rocks me deeply, leaving
No room to recover from the disorder
Or swift destruction. I closed my eyes
To the tears while hoping or believing
They would escape across the border.

It is not just any place where I can
Rest my weary feet and repair what is
Broken inside me. It is not when I am
Finding home inside of another man,
But in myself because when he fizzes
And walks away from the soft lamb,

Blue sky he helped create I find
A place I made. A place redefined.