Honey Silk

A Home Isn't a House

It doesn't shield you from the rain with a roof but rather an umbrella or replacement of one. 

It doesn't keep you warm with the thermostat when its cold out, its the embrace of arms that hold you close and provides warmth. 

It doesn't reassure your security within the walls, its the fights and mending the situation that build your home stronger. 

This apartment isn't my home. My home is wherever you are. Even when we can't be together, the very thought of you makes me think of better days. Better days we've shared and greater days to come in the future. 

I've never felt the kind of warmth you give to me. I've never felt the kind of security or reassurance that you shower me with. My home is wherever you are. 

My four walls would be your arms, my furnace for warmth would be your heart and the roof over my head would be your chest when I want to hide from the rest of the world around us. 

My home is you as a whole. You're the stars in my night sky. You're the home I dreamed of and it took me world rocking storms to get here but it was all worth it. 

Every tear that stained my cheeks, every time my heart sank deep into the pit of my stomach, every moment I suffered a heart break, it was all worth it .

I would go through every heart wrenching moment again and again if it meant coming back to you each time. 

Because a home is not a house, my home is wherever you are. Home Sweet Home finally means something to me. 

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