The Home That Holds My Heart.

They say home is not a place, it's a person. But what they fail to realize that home isn't human, nor is it tangible. Rather, it's a part of us. It's evry place and evry person and evrything that we've touched and that has touched us. Buildings crumble and people leave but we can always return to our memories. 


Home's among the company of friends for keepers. The songs of I listen to over and over again to feed my lyrical soul. It's the sound of trigger happy cameras. The feeling of contentment when genuine smiles are planted on people I love. The warm embrace of my favorite boy. The scent of fresh skin out of shower. The smell of greens after a drizzle or storm. The pour-yr-heart-out banters over beer or coffee. The nostalgia you get upon a flashback of a certain memory. 

You know how evryone says that home's where the heart is? 

Well, they've got it backwards. My heart is where my home is.

So where's your home?