I read somewhere that home can be a person,
It's not about 4 walls but the people living in them.
Some parts of me don't believe that anymore,
Cause the place that I called home for past 18 years, I'll be leaving it in 18 days.
The stickers I put on the wall when I was 13,
The painting on the dressing table, the lip stain on the side of the mirror, the polaroid pics and that gift drawer is begging me to stay.
I don't like the colour pink,
But these pink walls, how could I not love them?
All those nights I spent sitting on this study table
Doing almost everything except studying, will it miss me or I'll miss it?
This study table has been through thick and thin too,
From newspaper to my pictures
Date sheets to notes
I sticked everything on it and it sticked to me.
I don't wanna leave,
But on the other side of the coin, that one part of me who still believes home can be a person?
So I ask myself, isn't home where mom is?
It is indeed.
<3
YOU ARE READING
I Don't Know Yet
Poetryhey there "I don't know yet" is a poetry book, I have kept my name anonymous because I wanna keep this as a secret from the people who know me. I might reveal it once I finish this book, which I'm not really sure about. My poetry is gonna connect yo...
