home

for the last decade i have called 4621 Fieldcrest Dr. home.

but i will no longer be able to do that. because it's now someone else's home.

i'm currently residing at a place that has an address that i don't know, because i can't remember it. that's what happens when you get a new house. you don't remember anything about it until you've lived there for AT LEAST a year.

a home.

 

an empty house echoes.

we remove our lives,

and therefore the sound.

its so quiet here,

the life is gone

and in its place

we leave no remnants

of ourselves.

 

as the house is emptied

i silently wonder

if the house will remember.

remember all the things

that went on inside.

will my family still be there

even when we leave.

 

this house made me

happy.

made me feel

safe.

made me feel

loved.

if we leave the house,

can i still have all those

feelings?

 

was it the house itself?

was it the walls,

the colors,

the smells,

the floors,

the hallways,

that made me feel?

 

no.

 

it wasn't

walls

colors

smells

floors

or hallways

that made this house a home.

 

it was a family.

a family lived here,

and left here.

 

and now a new family will

live here,

and love here.

 

but even though we leave,

we take our home with us.

a home isn't

a place a residence,

a home is

a place of being.

 

being with family.

where my family is,

that is my home.