Every time summer vacation came round, the parents were in the habit of sending their two children to the country, far away from the bustle of the city. So every July, Julien and his little siste
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I was greeted to this campus
With “Welcome home”
So many times
That I naively assumed
I was safe to be myself.
I was told “You belong”
And I believed it,
Until I was “welcomed” with bitter stares,
Silently asking: “Why are you here?”,
“What could you have to offer?”
Determined to provide answers,
I buried myself deep in work
Seeking the validation
I realized I never needed.
A home is never spoken into existence,
it’s fostered over time.
I decided I would make my own
Like a robin building it’s nest,
Carefully tending to each twig,
Preparing for the weathering storms of spring
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