....home....

Home again? I don’t know really. I feel homeless at times. I guess it is but a fault in my system. I get confused. I claw. I falter. I laugh.
Where do I belong? I should be home right now. Home is the place where ma and baba are. Or is it? Remember when you were about a 3 and ½ feet high and your parents would take turn holding your hands on a weekend movie trip. Was that not more home? “More home”. I laugh again.
We party hard every other weekend. Friends meet. In their new homes. And yet again if I did not meet them in the past, would I even be here. Was that day that I first met my hot headed friend not home enough? “Home enough”. I laugh once more.
Home is where my heart is. Cursed traveler, lost in a colloid of emotions, my Valkyrie rides on the high cliffs of norsland. I cry foul, I scream myself hoarse, my voice turns bitter. I have lost my way back home. She frowns. I don’t dream anymore.
I have left my home. I can’t remember the road back. It’s lost somewhere in time and space. I look for it now and then. I only see people clogging every vein of the city, not letting me out. My home is in ruins. I crib. I clutter. I sell it to a real estate guy. I get rich and lucky. I die laughing.