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.
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