Home was a physical place up until the age of 15.

I never understood people who said home was about people.

Then I left home. I’m finding that, yes, my family is home. Yet, a big chunk of home is me.

If I’m not my own home, I could get lost.

I make a home for those around me who don’t have a home either.

_[this is kinda rough. I forgot I didn’t write today and it’s 11:44pm. Gimme a break.]_