Home to Her

Home...

For her it means so much more than a roof and four walls, she's

searched for what feels like her entire life trying to find her way back to that place.

A place where her soul wasn't shattered and the load, she had to carry wasn't so heavy. During the day she doesn't belong to herself, fIxing meals and kissing scrapes is what she's become accustomed to. At night she silently weeps, it only seems to bother her when the house is quiet.

Being alone with her own thoughts can be deafening, she hangs on tight to her pillow, fighting away the demons who invite her company. She closes her eyes and begins to question herself, has she done enough? Is she enough?

She wears her heart on her sleeve and takes each weary step with a forced smile, not being fooled by how the people she passes on the street seem to have it all figured out.

She's way too familiar with masks and just how well they hide the truth, she's worn her's for far to long to not know that, coincidentally the whole world is a stage after all only, in this show everyone wears a mask.

In the middle of the downfall and the chaos she always comes back to the same conclusion that heals her soul every single time, home at least for her, lies in what she's created the beautiful lives she's raising.

They have saved her more than they could ever know and while she may never fully be at peace within her mind, inside those tiny hands lies her heart and a place that feels like home.