Poetic Insights

Going home isn’t all
meatloaf, potatoes, and gravy;
it isn’t all sweet kisses
of nature in all her many forms
in her ageless beauty
and grace—

Going home means facing ghosts
of my past, my present, and my future;
always a stranger in my own family.
going home means remembering
how my father always made me feel
like nothing more than a burden

Going home means remembering all the things he said about me
that weren’t true, and
all the things that he unfairly assumed
because he didn’t know a shred
of the person i truly was
and thought he could tell me who i was supposed to be.

Going home means facing
relatives who will tell me that my
childhood boyfriend was a good boy
because they don’t know
he tried to rape me, they’ll just
scold me when i hiss my disagreement.

Going home means wanting
to somehow…