Home is My Heart
The key turns and I close my eyes, listening, taking in the fact that I’ll never, ever, open the door again to what once was and might have been. They say, they really do, that ‘home is where your heart is’ but, after my day of days, I’m thinking that my home, my real home, is the very heart that I take with me.
Like that essential item, that toothbrush, those favourite shoes, maybe even that lip balm, it has to be with you or you always feel like something’s missing. Maybe something will always be missing and that fact, that very little snippet of information, is why I keep moving. Moving forward, ever onwards, maybe even possibly a positive progression. Who knows? I don’t. I don’t know… I only feel as the last moments of a locking key escape into the world.
With a turning back, with a glance away from the door, feet move and the path ahead is walked upon. I’m not scared, I’m not escaping, I’m on another adventure and maybe, just maybe, I’ll find another key and explore another map.
My home is wherever I smile. If you smile back… I might even stay for a while. After all… Bricks and stone may break my soul but my body will always protect my heart.
Make my home your heart.