The smell of good food, and your laughter,
Fresh flowers, wind chimes and music.
Endless nights star gazing under a blanket
Sharing stories, everything and nothing.
The warm heater, pictures on the wall,
Grocery list on the fridge.
Fighting over the wet towels
Your hair in the sink.
Is this what home looks like?
Perhaps it does...
Every time I return to the cold apartment
And turn my keys, realising you left,
I miss belonging somewhere.
Lost. Helpless.
And once again, here I stand,
Homeless.
~ Suranya