Home

I've got
rubber duckies and bubbles on my teal PJ pants
that i'm still wearing at 1:30 in the afternoon
with a warm laptop on my legs and a storm raging outside
I'm home.

Maybe I'll walk around in the parking lot outside my back gate
and splash through puddles
sing Banana Pancakes
and remembering how I used to zip around the blacktop on my rollerblades
until I took a corner too fast
and limped back inside with asphalt embedded in my palms, bruises on my hip, and tears in my eyes

it took me two whole weeks before i would take that turn again.
I was always cautious of the danger that it held
but i loved speed too much to stay away from it for too long.

so while I'm here
maybe i'll bake chocolate chip cookies
read an old book in my bed
curl up on the yellow leather couch with my dad
and just listen to the rhythm of the rain.

or maybe i'll reminisce in my old room
talk to my bird
whose cockatiel crest looks like my new hairdo
stare out the window into my backyard
that i remember being so much bigger.

where the rabbit cages still sit
only now, they're empty.
wire mesh memories of my childhood best friends
with soft flickering noses pressed under my chin
round brown eyes that watched me carefully
and those long fuzzy ears that i would intertwine between my fingers

they say that home is where the heart is
but as far as I'm concerned
my heart is still right here, in my chest
but my home will always be
that two story house
with big windows in the front and back
and years worth of stories and secrets whispered into the framework
home will always be just a little too far away to drive home on the weekends
home will always be where I stay for the holidays
but at least I know
that home will always be there.