Charming and quaint,
this house is no saint.
The home that I have found
is mad with rage and pain and possibilities.
It's not a happy place,
rather an occupied space.
The house that is my home
feels full when I'm alone and full still when I'm not.
There exists no subtlety,
but it can exist without me.
This place I call home
belongs to those I know and those I know I will.
It can't be described as something physical,
nor is it mental or mystical.
This world is my home;
it called me then, and it's calling me now: live a little.
About the Creator
synrie
a creative
lover
definitely not a fighter
BARE HUNTER
CHAPTER 15 I pulled up in front of Sandy’s a little early, so I texted Becca again and left a message for Sharon, hoping she had a good day and I’d see her tomorrow. Two cars pulled into Sandy’s driveway. I don’t know why I was surprised to see another man with her. We’d been apart for two years and I certainly didn’t waste any time getting back on the horse.
By Tina D'Angelo5 days ago in Chapters
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.