is home a place, or is home a feeling? it’s the moment your plane is lifted off the ground when the wheels recede and the wings spread an air of unease that doesn’t sit quite right, but you can’t help the childish excitement beating in your chest your home keeps getting smaller and smaller, until it disappears out of sight \ and all you can see anymore is a sea of white. but I think home is neither a place nor a feeling home is the way your eyes twinkle and light up when I call your name home is the way I seem to have been born just to fit right in your arms I think the cosmos aligned when our hands touched for the first time, and all my wrongs were righted and I were stripped off my sins. my dear, you are home and especially heaven for a sinner like me.
what do you think about leaving your entire history behind? | mine