Coming home makes my bones happy.

My soul leaps with excitement; 

I can't contain myself.

 

Home is a place I can be free,

I can keep my bedhead all day,

And no one says a thing.

"Forget all your troubles those who enter"

Should be plastered above the door

To show visitors what my home means to me.

 

I smell the supplies my mom cleaned with,

Hear my dad's TV,

See Walter on the kitchen rug,

Without a single bark; the worst guard dog ever.

 

The scent of linens, stale yet clean,

Fill my basement.

They waft to my nose

And my heart fills with joy.

 

My family is here:

My parents, who love each other so much

They are honest and bold with one another.

My oldest sister, and her husband are deciding

Who is going to change Sam after he pooped out of his diaper,

For the second time today.

My only brother is organizing his room.

Although it never seems to get clean while he's here.

My other sister and her fiancé sit together

Planning their wedding fervently

 

My freshly cleaned room seems familiar,

Like i haven't even left.

My bed creakes like it has missed me; 

Its rocklike plushness reminds me of where I am.

 

I'm home, and my bones have yet to relax.

Every part of me loves it here.

The peace my home brings can never be taken away.

The visits seem to come less often,

But the sheer joy and electric hapiness it gives me only become more intense.