Homesick

I hear my inner voice call out, A child like whimper sometimes, Sometimes the cry of a wolf. I find myself craving something, Something not found in the books i read, Something my mind can’t even perceive. A hand seems to pull me in, With good intention; just wanting to be held. Along with it comes a friendly unfamiliar feeling “i need to go home” i think, standing in the balcony That has sheltered me for years. The feeling of some quest left undone eats me alive While i find myself in the purgatory of my mind. Is it love i yearn or acceptance? Do i want to be held or listened? I go into a spiral of What is and what should be Meanwhile the hand somehow let’s go And i go back to feeling the least Leaving this mystery unsolved for the time being.