by Madison Barlow
Home is not where the heart is,
but rather
home is the place where you carved
our initials into a tree as love
grew out of my ears and mouth
and wrapped itself
around my body
like ivy leaves and thorny greens.
Home is not where the heart is,
but rather
home is where the waves
gave my feet cool and salty kisses
as you traced my lips
with warm and soft ones.
Home is not where the heart is,
but rather
home is where I broke his heart
as you broke mine.
ugly emotions sewed
my mouth shut.
And the ivy leaves choked my lungs
as the thorns pierced my skin
burrowing themselves
into my inner veins
turning love into hate.
Home is not where the heart is,
but rather
home is where
my heart broke.