Home alone with my ego, and my big frizzy curly hair, and the quiet of a beating heart home alone with the pride, and the shame and the body that no one ever gets to touch, home alone with the coffee and the poems and the thoughts that circle my head
home alone in the solitude that learned how to not chain itself to loneliness. in the comfort, in the silence. with both regret and resentment sitting on my shoulders like old friends who found their way to my life again.. home with the accomplishments and the failures. the secrets and the rumors. with the dreams nobody understands but still ask about anyway, alone, alone with the bliss, sitting in my awkwardness with no one to make me feel awkward about being awkward. with my toes, and my fingers and my soul and my plans and my motives. home alone, home alone with me, with myself, with I, realizing that I don't fear being alone anymore, that the noises coming from the corners of this house don't make my skin crawl. home with this fearlessness, all this greed, all this power, thinking about how there really isn't anything I care about losing anymore, that I came into this world naked, and even these old clothes I have on are gain.
