when i think of home

home is his smile.

home is the way he falls asleep on face time and refuses to hang up.

home is the smell of his sweatshirt when he lets me keep it.

home is the embrace he holds me in, loving and comforting.

home is him, the boy i will love for the rest of my life, but not the one i deserve.

he is too good for me.

when i am with him, i find myself wandering to my person.

my person does not care to know me.

or find out my favorite color.

or my favorite brand of strawberries.

he just wants to kiss me and fuck until he is tired and done with me.

i do not deserve home.

now all i want is to be home, because the company i chose did not love me good enough.

i will never love my home good enough.