Where Home Really Is
Home–It’s now just a temporary stopping place.
On the highway
A black blur
Counting the white stripes
Like a deja vu, returning home.
Though my life seems to be right here–
It’s love and belonging.
One I love and one I need
For the girl in the mirror, or the girl outside the window;
A sense of belonging–
A human need.
To satisfy my stomach
To satisfy who will accept me
It’s denying until it’s a childhood breeze.
My eyelids closed, knees to my chest;
I’m in the place with mountains surrounding me.
The beehive state, the desert.
Where deepest memories run through my veins.
One of the four corners–