Finding Home

I do not belong here
poolside with martinis

I did not fit there either
shared bunk beds with my ten year old son a constant fight to keep the roaches at bay

Glancing over shoulder at the times I thought I could squeeze myself in boxes ubiquitous
Only to find myself looking at loose threads and snug buttons
Edges overlapping
Pages stuck together
showing that it just.   that   I just.  did not    was not part

Proof of an otherness
 
As if somehow     this    makes being alone better
Makes the outside
okay


Finding home is never easy