Since when did home get so confusing? For a long time I felt like home was a building. A place I could reside, relax, and rethink my life. But now I'm seeing things differently. Why does home have to be a physical structure? It doesn't. It isn't. Home is where your heart resides. In a good book. In the summer's warm breeze. In the laughter of a child. Home isn't an empty skeleton like a house built from wood and nails. That is so void of emotion, it isn't genuine. Home is so much deeper than what I can see. It's this permeating feeling that I can't even put into words accurately, but I sure can try. It's so full of contentment and satisfaction. It's where I'm at peace. It's where I am accepted and full of love. A place closed in by four walls could never foster that kind of love. Never. Home is inside the walls of my chest, and it escapes through my mouth and actions. It isn't hidden. It's open for all to see and to enter into. I can't escape home, cause it's always with me. <3
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