Home:

“The place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household.”

 

 

That’s the dictionary definition, at least. 

But for all that book’s wisdom, 

I can’t help but feel

it’s so much more. 

 

 

I don’t miss places. 

I miss what made those places

destinations I wanted to go back to. 

I miss

the people that made those buildings 

those locations

those very walls

something so hard 

to be apart from. 

 

They say homesick, but I’ve never been sick from missing a building. 

But

I’ve thrown up

I’ve passed out

I’ve run fevers

I’ve cried

I’ve screamed

I’ve hallucinated 

waiting for people

to come back to me again.

 

Homesick?

No. 

I was grief-stricken. 

 

So

here’s my definition:

Home:

“Not just a place, but a person.

Not  just a house, but a feeling.

The very reason

goodbye

is the hardest word to say.”