kde domov muj

I zipped up duffle bags, taped down cardboard boxes,

exhaled my old life and moved into a new one.

Where is my home.

Past dinner. Past the sun. Bitten down nails and 

smell of sleep and sweetened tea.

Everyone is gone, back to their families, 

back to being enveloped by perfect memories

and old traditions. 

I lay in bed, wondering why I'm not going out.

Not greeting my parents. Not seeing old faces.

Realized, it doesn't take a bottle of bad decisions

and an uncomfortable family.

to make my night meaningful.

I am alive.

I am in tune with myself, utterly and blissfully alone.

My night is just as memorable when I fill pages with pictures

and words... creating beautiful things and imagining impossibilites.

Never will I feel shame for the amount of love I have in myself.

My heart speaks to me and my soul holds me tight.

I think about my life on two occasions: day and night.

Respect for days, breaths, and never ending downpour of love.

My life is as beautiful as the leaves falling, the snow melting,

the birds singing, and the sun warming my bones.

My life ended in June and melted into the concrete, floated

in a lake, danced in the wind and was strong enough 

to come back home to my body to start all over.

I'm not afraid.

But where is my home?

How many miles, how many boxes..

Kde domov muj.