Sometimes

I am home… sometimes

Some people say that home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling

But where is home if the way I feel is constantly changing

No place or feeling ever feels right for long

A moment of bliss and then it’s gone

Then back to searching

And wondering

And wandering

And waiting

For something to feel right again

So I look in all the familiar places 

Where I once felt found,

That I once called home,

But they only ever feel right… sometimes

It’s a guessing game where I’m always lost

The map is written in a foreign language

And everytime I learn to read it the script changes

None of these roads look familiar, no matter how long I walk them

My mind changes like the weather,

And I don’t know when the sun will come back

If the landscape inside me is never the same as it once was

Then where is home?

How do you find a place that is only there

Sometimes

Author's Note

Not really looking for criticism, I write my poetry for myself.