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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I carried places in my arms that no one else could see. In other people's words, I found some room for being me. My dictionary on my knees, thesaurus close at hand. I had so much I couldn't name, but longed to understand. One word would lead me to the next, then something new would call. I'd only meant to learn one thing and stayed to learn them all. I tried new words upon my tongue and spoke each one alone, repeating unfamiliar sounds until they felt my own. A patient page would find me when I was feeling low. I didn't have to hide from it how much I didn't know. But house and home, those simple words, weren't quite the same to me. One had a roof, a lock, a door; one let me simply be. I lingered over one word: safe, and read its meaning through. So few words needed to explain a life I hardly knew. The pages did not stop the sounds that traveled through the wall. Some nights I read one sentence twice but understood nothing at all. I kept one finger on the page when I could not go on. And when I found my place again the words were never gone. In time, I took an empty page and gave it just a part of what I hadn't learned to say but knew so well by heart. Those words became a sheltered place where I was free to be. The girl who found a haven there still has a home in me.
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