Home

He felt like home.
Like grandpa’s hugs and granny’s kisses.
Like a  school bus ride home, and  evening sunsets. Like afternoon
Lunch with your Best-friends.

He felt like home.
Arms with an instant ease of peace, chocolate lips
And a grin so sweet. He felt like ice cream on a summers day.
He felt like a sunshine ray , and a Shooting stars runaway.

He felt like home
He felt like  Twilight, New Moon, and Breaking Dawn.
He was was as high as the sky  and as bright as Nebula.
He felt like why have I never felt this way before?

He felt like a shower after a long day at work, like back-rubs
And bath bomb soap . He felt like India’s Aries “Brown skin…
 I can’t tell where mines is and where yours begins”.
He felt like hopes redeeming  and pains end.
He felt like home.

Of course felt is past tense.
But it’s still memorizing to dream of who we used to be. The trauma that can
Happen when direct and in-direct meet. Like I’m saying things I don’t mean
Because you act a certain way and you say what sounds right to make me feel
Ashamed  but neither one of us really felt that way.

Silly sibling banter of who hurt who more or
The feeling like dealing with one another is  a chore.
Throwing gabs-where it hurts the most, tongue’s ready
To blow smoke.

Where indirect and direct meet
The one who doesn’t talk much and the other who over communicates.
Both unwilling to back down from their turf. Ready to throw everything
Away from a lack of control. Because we both can’t be mad or it’s
All hell on earth.
.
Now my four walls barely feel like home.
The feel like where is my friend.
My confidant, my Clyde.
Where is my moonlight, starlight my sunshine.
Where is my, “OMG come here”. Where
Are my kisses on my ear. Where is my love
My short and stocky, sweet and cocky
thrill.

Where is my home sweet home.