23.

"Why can't I just talk to God?
What would I say?
God, I miss home.
I miss it now.

I miss my house.
I miss my home.
I miss my grade six love.
I miss my health.
I miss my home.
I miss my grade six love.

I miss the way that my mom smelled.
I miss the way that she could cure any common cold you held.
I would watch movies with my Dad before I knew his secret heart to know the loves that he has had.
When I caught frogs in watered ponds.
I woke to sound and not to noise as my neighbours worshipped God.
I miss my house.
I miss my home.
I miss the heart that I had. "

22.

why is it

that no matter what i do

i can't stop how i feel.

what if i never fall out of love with you?

four years is too long.

but, i guess

somethings never change.

21.

it's the first night in my

new home.

it doesn't feel like home, because the walls are bare

and it doesn't smell like

incense and coffee grounds.

i miss daddy more than

i miss my sanity.

because i don't need sanity,

but without him, the chances of me

getting better are

slim.

(slim? i wish, right?)

the only thing that resembles my life

is my new closet;

organized chaos

and i love it.

20.

my life was packed into 3 boxes today,

2 more boxes to go.

moving is so strange... because i've

been looking forward to this since i was in

primary school.

and now, all i want to do is never leave.

19.

i hate lies.

the end.

18.

today,

i realized,

that without anti-depressants,

in my system,

i,

am,

a,

suicide risk.

it's a good thing i'm getting some more tomorrow.

17.

finally home,

but now the grandparents are in my

turf, so i can talk back, and fight

for my right to be happy

but, it isn't home for long

because the big move is in a week...

can you imagine? it's scary,

because all i want is to

have a place to call home. but home

is something you only truly have once,

a place where you can forget about life

and just sit on your couch all day

and be you. you can cry in a home,

and laugh, and starve, and eat,

and it's yours. but once you move

out, you spend the rest of your

life living in hotels, writing on

hotel paper, and

never getting that home feeling again.

but you see, the thing is,

without home, i'm just a person

breathing, crying, starving, eating,

without a family, writing on hotel

paper.