While walking on a green field
Under the pale moon,
I remember home.
The suffocating fullness of the incomprehensible love
Habits that have been formed with my limbs
People whose blood and illness I carry as well
A certain smile and care that will always tell me, it will be okay
I remember the walls that have seen me become
A hundred different Devikas before I froze, brick by brick.
All the fights and terror with which we passed each day
All that emotion that flowed thick in us.
The laughs and loose hair, chatter that will always comfort me in my sleep.
I have had the privilege of growing up among different mothers
And I am a daughter to all.
Miles away, my heart beats quickly
I miss not feeling like a pretense
Not being judged in a way that made me doubt my bricks
Not feeling like a burden or having my thoughts questioned
Because even they are a part of an illness that was passed down to me.
Why is home so far?
Why is the feeling of home so far?
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