In Between Homes

Landed at the airport,

Heart heavier than the bag I carry,

Carefully stifle these thoughts, they make no sense to me.

Here we go again...

Just landed somewhere I call home, but this raging emptiness –

With her bags all filled, Where is she coming from?

Why do I love things the most when I'm just about to leave them?

Is it the fear of never seeing them again, or the unfinished business I leave behind, that my heart finally begins to love?

 I push it away at that moment.

I nitpick and rip apart the next thing, only to miss it the most.

My phone's location is just as confused, the roaming's gone. It no longer flutters, it just beats.

I follow the stitches in the road, hoping they can mend the wounds within.

This is only getting more confusing,

Getting on flights with knots in my throat.

Whoever came up with the word 'bittersweet' really hit the spot.

Arrivals and departures both taste the same; mix them, and I drink it down as the fine host hands it to me.

Sad everywhere I go, wanting to be back home.

Where is home?

When it hurts to leave either one of them.

Now I’m home,

Standing near the window, the wind rushing in without excuse, smelling like the other home I just left behind. Is this a present you sent? I ask out loud – do they miss me just as much,

Or are they mad that I left,

Mad that I could love it just as much when I was there,

Left without saying goodbye?

It's like that the Weeknd album, the transition between two songs—those three precise seconds that feel good, and then you're back to feeling homesick for an unknown home.

The girl in front of me is falling in love, and I want to stop her.

Always feeling like I'm catching up – my soul is catching up.

But, I’m tired now-

Now I'm sitting with my laptop, looking out the window,

Trying to see the things I could have done.

Too late?

*Images sourced from Pinterest.