You Keep Looking For A Home In Those Who Keep Their Doors Shut


You are someone,
Who likes to cherish the small things.
The first snowfall,
When the trees are dead with the heavy weight of snowflakes weighing each branch down.
The first flower that blooms,
Promising a new season of hope, happiness, and a change of heart.
You are someone,
Who likes to stand bare feet, with the sand stuck between your toes as you grasp in the warmth of the sun and inhale the summer breeze you have awaited all year.
You are someone,
Who likes lazy days,
To stay indoors and blame August for being a month of Sundays where you have lost all ability to do anything,
And simply live out the last stretch of days before the school year begins;
And as the leaves begin to fall,
As you crush each dead leaf beneath your feet with each step closer to somewhere you long to be, but get lost on the way because
You are someone,
Who is looking for a home in each snowflake that melts on your eyelashes.
In the same flower, that blooms before your eyes hoping you might capture some of its beauty to feel a bit pretty.
You are an uncharted constellation,
The kind that astronomers spend years searching for, but never find.
You are someone who looks for a home
In those that keep their doors shut.