today i am moving home.
but am i actually going back?
i mean, "moving" consists of taking your things from one place, and happily bringing them someplace else.
if i don't have a bed to make, a closet to sift through, a table to set, can i really be "moved?"
"home is where you lay your hat."
but my hat has nowhere to be laid.
"home is where the heart is."
my heart has forgotten how to feel; unaware of it's surroundings or the outside forces pulling it in every direction.
home just doesn't feel like "home" anymore.
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