Home in heart

Home is where we feel safe, home is where we can wake our mind up when we feel like it, home is where nothing matters except the nourishing of our hearts and the warmth of seeing the face of those we love. Home is where we know we can conquer anything, irrespective if we may not be as strong as we see fit, with the others under that roof we defy strength. We learn the love of life under that roof, we learn the sanity of being alone and that its good, we learn that safety is in confidence, we learn that vulnerability is one hundred percent acceptable under that roof, and that in weak and strength and tears in pain so hard we feel it in our stomach from the crying we have a crease, a visible crease in our stomach from being bent over in pain, and in our hearts actual legitiment aching we think death isnt far atleast mentally, people die mentally all the time, no one has a funeral. They check out walk through this life as if they are just an on looker watching from above. They are numb show no emotion in it or what they do. They merely are just beings, they are the people we choose to not surround ourselves by, they are the people that will never be happy with something as minut as waiting for a flower saved in the road to bloom, blooming maybe from a fresh cut stem and clean water, or for the glass half full type it is a representation of love. And love is what made it grow,made it grow in that glass on the counter in the kitchen under the roof of that house. That house, that heart under that roof called home.