when we think of home,
many of us think of a building.
we think of the four walls that surround us,
topped off with a finished roof.
but to some,
it’s not a home.
a home is some place you feel safe.
it’s somewhere you go when the world has gone hectic.
a home is not the same thing as a house.
the difference is, a home can be anything.
it can be a person,
it can be a place,
and for some, it can be a feeling.
when the world becomes dark and scary,
we reach for safety.
we rely on protection.
for some people,
they just need a pair of arms.
they need the love and affection to feel secure.
when you’re in the right place,
everything feels right.
think of this.
not everyone is lucky enough to have a house.
but we’re all lucky enough to have one thing in life,
to be our protection.
whether it’s a person.
whether it’s something you value,
or whether it’s something intangible,
such as religion.
that’s the beauty in ‘home’.
because sometimes an actual house,
can be where the danger occurs.
a place where protection lacks,
a place where you seek affection.
where the floor is layers of broken glass,
shattered from the demons that lurk within the walls.
it can be the echos that rage through the hallways,
that can never be silenced.
a home is where those voices are silenced,
even just for a moment.
where the broken glass has been cleaned up.
a home is where the demons have been defeated.
it’s also where the world is bursting with color.
something that brings us peace.
in this world, we all seek for peace.
this world has been corrupt.
we rely on some sort of protection.
where we run from our houses,
to our homes.
you might be that protection for someone.
in the midst of insanity,
you hold the peace.
you are home.
you have the ability to bring peace.
you have the glue to put the broken pieces back together.
at the end of the day,
you have the ability to be a home.
you’re full of purpose.