I Wish to Go Home to Cry

I wish to go home to cry,

My eyes have started to blur out,

I can't carry the weight of unshed tears,

But I'm far from home.

My feelings overflow like a spring gushing forth from the earth,

It seeks refuge in moonless nights and

dark corners.

The heart has outgrown, it's no longer of fists size,

It has become indifferent to the aches and scratches.

I wish to go home to cry,

But I can't remember where my home is,

It has become a delusion,

I get the blurred images of the blue windows with yellow curtains,

That swayed in gentle winds,

To kiss the books on the table.

Or was it a yellow window with blue curtains?

I'm unable to figure out the exact picture,

I haven't been home since three seasonal cycles, or four or five.

But I wish to go home to cry,

To cut open myself and

heal my heart with yellow flowers,

And to sleep with lavenders under the pillow.

But which is the right road?

Which is the right bus?

Where do I get down?

I have miles to travel,

Rivers to cross,

Deaths to witness,

Maybe my heart will survive till then.

Maybe it will endure everything,

And if not,

I will bury it myself in this lonely sands,

Chanting a dirge,

Away from home,

Ceasing all the feelings.

But I wish to go home to cry,

Maybe I will find home someday.

A. C

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