Home used to be a place where you were always expected to care for yourself.

Home is a place where you are always given what you need and more.

Home used to be a place where your mother didn’t bother with teaching you much of anything because you were just too much.

Home is where your Aunt answers all your questions and curiosities, no matter how annoying you seem to be.

Home used to be where you were never allowed much of anything because money was tight, all the while a thick wad of cash was being passed over for a few pills.

Home is where you get to do everything you always wanted to try, like iced strawberries and going on class field trips to anywhere.

Home used to be strange trips near thick dark woods to meet different men in black hoodies.

Home is long awaited car rides to see family that lived six hours away.

Home used to be screaming and fighting on the other side of rented doors.

Home is friendly bickering and squabbling on the other side of a paid off house.

Home used to smell like year-old beer and weed, with a hint of fresh cigarettes; no matter whose house you were staying in.

Home is the scent of oil from your uncle coming in from the diesel shop and sweet things your aunt bakes in the oven.

Home used to be you taking care of your sister because your mom didn’t want to be a mom for a few days.

Home is a place where you’re allowed to grow up on your own time. 

Home used to be scraping for cash and mom picking through her friends’ loyalties to see who will let us live with them without rent next.

Home is your uncle teaching you how life works over a bowl of soup you didn’t need to beg for.

Home used to be couches with molded cotton under your nose and firm hardwood floors that you just had to force yourself to get over.

Home is a bed that never belonged to anyone besides you.

Home used to be watching your dad care for your mom while she vomited all over the floor, and cursing at you for not staying in your room last night.

Home is a place where you aren’t ever locked in one space for hours at a time for parties.

Home used to be something that your friends talked about and expected yours to be the same.

Home is never the same. 

Home used to be heart aches and lonely.

Home is kind and full.

Home used to be a nightmare come to life.

Home is a dream once thought impossible.