Fridays I'm Frank (Poems)

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I. Hate. Going. Home. There's nothing that I dread more throughout my entire day. I don't feel "at home" in my own house... But honestly? Ask yourself, what is a home really? Shouldn't it be a place where you feel safe? Comfortable? Happy? I mean I don't know about you but, I know DAMN well that my "home" sure isn't a building with a roof and 4 walls full of people I don't necessarily care for. No, my home has two arms, two legs and a heartbeat. My home is a sacred place... A safe haven. His arms protect me from the broken world around me and his legs could take me anywhere I've ever wanted to go. His heartbeat makes everything else irrelevant... When I found him, he was in pretty rough shape. With a leaky roof and some broken windows.. But I took him in.. And now? He's the best house on the block. And not because he's big or expensive or luxurious, I mean he still might have a few holes in the walls... But because he's mine and he's welcoming. He's comforting and he shelters me. He does the best in his power to let me know that I am loved. So yeah, sometimes he may taste like cigarettes and have that bittersweet smell that I'm addicted to but he's home and he's mine and I love him. And now? There's nothing that I love more... Than going home. <3