homesick

By emily kennard

i’m homesick for things i never had like the stepping stones breaking up the green grass leading to the patio where the cats nap basking beside me in the golden sunshine homesick for the white picket fence enclosing and protecting my whole world when all i had to worry about was the wide sky above me and learning the language of visiting creatures homesick for the garden that kept us well-fed and well-nourished full of leafy greens and tomato plants with their vines outstretching up the careful latticework and into the clouds i’m homesick for peaceful nights when the only lights in my room come from the moon and stars until the sun gently wakes me peeking through my open blinds i’ll miss anything if it can distract me from what i got instead waking up to screaming, meeting blue and red when security blankets me now, it makes me feel sad it makes me homesick for the protection she never had