Belonging

Sometimes i feel like i am simply being ‘passed into different hands.

We make homes out of people,

only to pack up our things

and move

and move

and move.

there is a lot of myself

still residing in cardboard boxes.

i am too scared to find a place for it.

i hover at your doorstep.

you look like exactly where i need to be

right now. but i’ve got a pocket full of old keys

to remind me to never overstay my welcome.

invite me in anyway.

there is something about you that

makes me want more than anything

to give all this another try.