To most people home is a place
Where you experienced love
A memory trapped in your mind of happy thoughts
A meal that when you smell it causes a smile
The memories so fresh they stay in your mind for awhile
Home is a place that brought you comfort
Even if you failed you know that you could always go home
Home to me is not a place
Home to me was not a happy memory
Home to me caused fear and pain
A place that I would dare not return
I’ve always felt homeless but had a home
I didn’t realize home until I made my own
It was not the place or the area I lived
It was the people my friends and my kids
My husband my dogs and the feelings of calm
The smiles the laughs the screams and cries
The smell of peppermint
A house that’s been freshly cleaned and bleached
I now feel safe and complete
I didn’t have a home, so I created my own
My terms my choices the ultimate goal
To have a home
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Andrea Reed and writers in Poets and other communities.
The feeling of incomplete
It was the loudest yet most inaudible time of my life. I grew up in foster care and I was there until the age of 8 1/2 months. when I was three years old my grandparents decided to do Kin foster care which is basically where you take in a foster kid but there related to you. so, from the age of three to about 6 all I knew where my grandparents and my cousins. When I turned 6 my Gran father decided to allow my biological mother to enter my life. As a child I had always felt that something was missing, and I filled that void with books and an active imagination. I never forget the day I met her my grandma had dressed me up she did my hair nice, and I remember sitting on the porch and seeing this lady walk up and it felt like I was seeing myself in adult form. it was like any doubt or question that I had about myself went out the window. I instantly felt complete. Now I knew in the back of my mind she had gave me up and trust and believe my grandmother would not let me forget it, but I justified that it was probably 4 a good reason. as children and sometimes adults we tend to do that when something is not necessarily good for us, we tend to make up a reason to keep it in our lives, so I justified keeping her in mine. visiting her was awesome we did so many things she always had tons of toys, I always felt like she treated me special when I came around. and when I think about it know it is almost as if she was trying to make up for giving me away or missing out on parts of my life. The thing is none of that matters to me the fact that I got to spend time with her, and I got to meet my other siblings and get to know some of my aunts and uncles, that is what was important to me. as great as the Visits where they started to become shorter and sometimes, she would not show up. There started to become many excuses, not even excuses that she would tell me but excuses that my grandparents would say. well, maybe she just forgot, or something came up and she was not able to pick you up today. I remember sitting on the porch waiting all day for her to show up and she never came. I remember being furious and upset and just thinking how she could do something like this to me. that same day my granddaddy pulled me aside and he tells me my mother is sick and she's in the hospital I'm going to go visit her later on today would you like to go? now the child in me being so mad at her that she had missed visits not even hearing the part about her being sick, I figured I don't want to go I want her to feel how I felt when she didn't show up. if only I could take that back, if only I would have just gone. I wonder to this day would it have made a difference? If I went, would I have felt the many emotions or anger at myself? when the day that she passed came. that day was like any other day I remember waking up and I just felt like today was going to be a bad day. I remember hearing my granddaddy on the phone his voice was different it did not sound distraught just was filled with concern. I get up I walk out my room and he tell me your mother passed. that day was the loudest yet inaudible time of my life. what I mean when I say that is inside, I felt so many emotions I was filled with anger, I was screaming in the inside I was crying in the inside but none of those emotions translated to the surface, but tiny little tears that streamed down my face. till this day I feel like the tears that translated to the surface did not even justify the pain that I felt inside. Losing a parent was like no other pain I had ever felt before and I have been through so many things in my life. I just remember all the adults at her funeral telling me with time it will get better with time it will be easier and I feel like with time in a way it did get better but with time it got worse because Can you imagine having a child and your mother not being there Can you imagine getting married and you look out to the crowd and your mother is not there, so yes with time I learned how to push the pain down even hide it. but with time it created a person that in the future needed a lot of therapy and a lot of fixing. I feel like nobody talks about that part of death and why when you meet people or go to support groups of people that have lost their loved ones it is almost like a breath of fresh air because you feel like finally someone that knows what I am going through. because I would talk to my grandmother and I would talk to my siblings and I would talk to my friends, but I feel like you do not really know how to help a person who has lost a loved one that is so dear to them if you truly have not been through it yourself. But the crazy thing about is so painful I would not want anyone to experience that type of pain. So, At the age of twelve I learned regret and grief I learned at an early age to always say I love you and sometimes you will say goodbye forever. I was left broken and empty, and it took years to fix. I learned to hide my love and harbor the pain. Also, at the age of twelve I learned I had no control over anything that I was just along for the ride on this rollercoaster called life.
By Andrea Reed3 years ago in Families
Penumbra Complete
Echoes Chase Languorous Illuminations with a most Pluralistic wave Shining face to face of Each * Acrostic poems are almost as much enjoyment as observing the two disks barely touching but give an unearthly tone to the daylight.
By Canuck Scriber L.Lachapelle Authorabout 10 hours ago in Poets
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.