House 6

I'm back in House 6.
A little over two years later.
I call it House 6, not home, as I'm only here briefly.

Right now, home is where my name is on the bell.
Home is where everything is to my liking.
Where my mother does not yell my name at the top of her voice,
Where every item reflects me.
My own space.
The place I pay for by the third of each month.

Home is where there's a park near my house,
where ambulances pass, crying,
Hurrying to save someone.

House 6 used to be home.
It's my parents' now.
Things are different here.
A lot has changed since I was last here.
And a lot remains unchanged.

Like my room.
Not much has changed
Except my sister's exam notes now cover the walls.
My old workstation is now my brother's.
It doubles as storage, too.

The clothes I left behind now wear dust.
Same with the shoes.
They're no longer mine.
I've metamorphosed past them.

My brothers have metamorphosed too.
They now tower over me.
They lean to hug me.
They have beards.
I’m my brother's passenger princess -
I swear it was just yesterday
Dad was telling him when to turn and cut his hand
The young have grown.

Still, House 6 is a comforting reminder.
It's a place I can return to.
A place that receives me.
Somewhere that holds the older versions of me.
Old journals.
Plans, prayers, and dreams I scribbled.
I wrote myself here.

As much as I call where I pay rent home, it really isn't.
My lease runs out eventually.

Edith Whiskers sings, "Home is wherever I'm with you."
And maybe that's closest to the truth.

In this transitional, treacherous season of my twenties,
Home is wherever I'm staying for more than a week
where I, or my loved ones, create systems for me.

My mom showed me the makeshift gym in the BQ.
She buys me chicken breast.
She accommodates my food preferences.
She teaches me how to use the blender for my smoothies.

Moyin does same.

They make sure I have what I need to function,
to function properly.

Home is wherever I am for over a week.
Home is wherever my loved ones make room for me,
to stay.
To breathe.
To be comfortable.