Home is narrow twisty roads filled with potholes.

Home is the town full of rundown fading buildings with leaky roofs. 

Home is sharing a room with your younger sister, and never finding time for yourself. 

Home is your dad constantly nagging you about coming over to his house, not caring about what your plans are for the week.

Home is running into your aunt, your mom’s work friends, and one of your former teachers everytime you go to Walmart. 

Home is riding the yellow school bus which reeks of sweaty middle school boys and the aroma of girls over spraying their vanilla perfume just longing for the day you turn sixteen so you can get your license. 

Home is getting home at one am after a fun night at the Starlight Drive-In watching Scream Vl with your best friends. 

Home is your dad guilt tripping you into staying the weekend at his house in Tennessee, five hours away from your home in Missouri. 

Home is babysitting your three younger siblings while mom is at work. 

Home is listening to the peep frogs chirp, the coyotes howl, and the crickets sing late at night while you toss and turn in your gray and white sheets trying to sleep but ultimately failing. 

Home is following every rule and obsessing over every grade so you don’t disappoint your parents.

Home is waking up at five in the morning because you have band practice before school and getting home at ten at night because you have tennis and band practice after school, never having time to retake tests to increase low scores. 

Home is your dad telling you that your mom is a horrible person, while your mom accuses him of lying and cheating. Both parents have a different version of every story so eventually you stop listening to either of them because you don’t know who to believe. 

Home is struggling to balance school, band, tennis, family, friends, and a relationship. 

Home is wanting to move out and live on your own as soon as possible. 

Home is not wanting to leave your family behind. 

Home is realizing that people will spread untrue rumors about you, but it doesn’t matter in the end because no one will remember. 

Home is finally finding time to go to your dads house and being forced to do every single household and farm chore without an allowance. Learning you had better listen the first time he says something or you’ll regret it. 

Home is going to the overpriced county fair and seeing all the kids from school running around eating funnel cakes and popsicles. 

Home is going to the church your grandpa preaches for and knowing every member by name, where they live, and who their parents are. 

Home is knowing you have many friends you can always count on under any circumstance at any time, night or day. 

Home is realizing you can move away from here and be your own person but still come back to visit your family when you need to. 

Home is comfort, but home is also suffocating.