Note: Inspired by Ed Sheeran’s Castle On The Hill.

For some, home is a landscape,
Of roaring fields, sunset lit evenings,
The buzz of nature and sweet embrace of fire,
Home is a hazy dream in the country.

For others, home is the city,
Loud laughter, music and chatter,
Tall buildings and vintage clothes shops,
Home is a burning city.

For some, home is an island,
Surrounded by water and the soft shores of golden sand,
Dance music and family adventures,
Home is an aquatic dream.

For others, home is a quirky town,
Libraries, cinemas and theatres,
Places full of words and song,
Home is a gentle undercurrent of familiarity.

For some, home is the people,
The familiar smiles and giggles in the dark,
The soft hands of a loved one or the hug of a best friend,
Home is love.

For others, home is not a place or a person,
It is that tug towards what is known,
What is warm, safe, what is comfort,
Home is a feeling.

Home is the moment your feet land on familiar soil,
And you feel at one,
The air is different here, there is an electric pulse to the ground you walk on,
Home is a sensation.

Of belonging,
Of being,
Of loving,
Of living.

Home is the taste of my mother’s cooking,
The smell of my father’s coffee,
The familiar weight of a book in my hands,
The magical eyes of my kitten.

Home is my brother’s strange music,
And my best friend’s smile,
The warmth of my mother,
The darkness of family tension.

Home is not perfect,
Home is a festering place,
Of depression, anxiety and fear,
It is a hell and a heaven.

But it is home,
And no matter how much I run from it,
I will always find myself back,
Standing in front of that white door.


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