Is HOME a concept?
If it is, it's one I don't understand

Because my blood does not feel like it belongs in my body
And when I hold still I can feel all the tiny pieces of pale, shapely bone holding my body together
How beautiful is bone
How delicate are the bones in my hands
Hands that are always cold
Cold blood
Cold mornings that keep me in my bed
My head beneath the covers
My head that aches at the beginning of ever day
And the end of every evening pressure building behind my eyes
My eyes
The only part of me that feels right

Is HOME a feeling?
If it is, I can't feel it

Even though this place is full of things that remind me of home
With it's crystals, pure and clear and natural
Children of the Earth
The Earth
held together by stone, strong, solid stone
Buried deep in the ground
The ground
Where roots twist and bend 
Connected to trees
Flowers
Perhaps a lilac
Lilac, with its sweet purple blooms
Perfect for hummingbirds
Hummingbirds
Little sisters 
So unique and delicate
Little jewels of birds
Birds
Like an eagle
Monarchs of the sky
The sky
The sky
Never-ending, ever-changing
Crackling with electricity
Terrifying and bright 
Bright like stars
Spread across the sky like diamonds
Hypnotizing
Beckoning
Sirius
Venus
And sometimes complete, perfect darkness
Darkness
That I love so much 
Swallowing me up
Like a comforting embrace

Is HOME a place?
If it is, I don't think I've ever been there

Because when I was a child I was surrounded by people only I could see
I still am sometimes
I see them as clearly as the lights I see when I close my eyes
When I close my eyes
To sleep, and dream of home
Beings of light and wisdom
So strange yet so familiar
Dreams I can barely remember when I'm wide awake
When I'm wide awake
Waves crash down on my ears and I am somewhere I have never been
Never will be
I can't move
Can't escape
Can only wait for my return to this place
This time

Someday I'll go HOME
But not yet