When you hear no it means no.
Not faster or slower,
Or hang on a second baby i need to breath.
It means no.
She cannot even utter her pleas anymore.
‘Human beings are the only creatures on earth that allow their children to come back home.’ – Bill Cosby
Well guys, I’m at home. I’m a bit late to the party because I’ve actually already been home for over a week now!! But boy does it feel good! It feels great to have my feet on home soil. I didn’t realise how much I missed it, I guess that sayings true, you don’t know what you’ve got until its gone. Its quite daunting really knowing that in just a few weeks I’m going to have to be back in Leicester. As much as I’m looking forward to getting back stuck in, I can’t deny that I’m going to miss home all over again when I leave. I guess I just have to make the most of what I’ve got right?
I have such a lovely extended family in Leicester now, and I love them all to pieces but they are nothing like real family. Just the other day, my nephew was simply playing with his jigsaw and I got very sentimental over the fact that soon I’m not going to know the next time I’m going to be able to sit down and help him.
I know its silly and irrational really, especially when I know that my plan one day is to move to America, which means moving country let alone changing post code. But in my mind that different because there won’t be the possibility of just popping home for the weekend, the closest I’ll get to home will be Skype calls and when the time comes I’ll settle for that. But for now, I know that there is nothing in the world I would rather do right now than spend some much needed time with my family and everyone at home because I really have missed them all so much.
What can I say? There really is no place like home!
And for a while my only friend was the glass in my hand,
The liquor slipping down my throat, the only warm touch I needed.
The ice the only thing I dare let linger on my lips,
For fear of being burned.
The voice in my head chanting ‘its okay’
Until the words just blur into one.
‘s’k, s’k, s’k’.
The strength of lifting my hand to my mouth
Rewarded by the rush than ran through me,
The shiver that shook my body,
When it was too strong,
When there was far too much alcohol, in comparison to pop.
Just like there’s far too many emotions for me to deal with in this small body of mine.
A sip for sadness, a sip for regret, a sip for loneliness,
A gulp for rage, a gulp for courage,
A glass for clarity.
This friend in my hand, was more delicate than I,
Drop me, I will hurt but I will not break.
Break my friend and they’ll shatter into a million tiny pieces,
My secrets whispered into the rim along with them.
My confessions spoken into the glass,
Released for a moment,
Weight off my shoulders,
Only to weigh twice as much when I drink them back down,
For having the time to clarify them.
You used to look at me like I was the only thing in your world,
Like I was the one who was holding you safely on the ground,
It wasn’t easy but I held on tight each and every day,
Determined not to let you just float away.
You’d touch me like I was the most delicate thing
You’d ever had the pleasure of touching,
Like I was a sacred text and the only way to read me
Was your fingertips on my skin.
And then you’d hold me so close we could almost be a whole,
So close, I could feel each breath fan across my neck,
Knowing there was no way you’d let me fall
Into anything but the place I supposedly belonged.
Your hands constantly finding my hair,
Idly twirling it around and around and watching it unravel,
The simplest pleasure in the world for you,
And I let you indulge because you at least deserved that.
At the end of the day, you would pull my back to your chest,
Your head resting against mine,
I’d hear the deep breath you take
Almost like you were trying to breath me in.
After days apart you would run to me,
As though time apart had wearied you
And I am the medication you desperately need,
As though I am the only one who could put you back together.
And you’d talk to me in riddles and poems
Because it was too hard for you to tell me straight,
But you knew I didn’t mind, that I’d take the time to figure it out
And I would wake up each morning, eagerly awaiting the next one.
And then you would stare at me,
As if you were only just seeing me for the first time,
As if you had finally begun figuring out the missing piece of the puzzle,
And maybe you were.