My Home

~
My home used to be a physical, materialistic thing
A place where I could hide away my being
Only, as time went on and people grew
My home became others

My home was no longer an object you could touch
Rather it was an emotional connection
Throughout my chaotic mind I discovered
My home now true

My home could not protect my body
It now cherished my mind and soul
Looking upon with great admiration
My home now knowing of me

My home did not contain a bed nor pillow
Replacing the bed was a warm embrace
No pillow, but a shoulder to cry on
My home became safety

My home had no doors on hinges
but eyes that were windows to the soul
a way for me to reach a cure
My home was my medicine

My home, finally, was not a home
No physical place to live
But yet it was shelter from this terrible place
My home was, in fact, you.
~
©nova-dust 2014