Is it really a home?
When a stranger has touched your possessions

Is it really a home?
When you will now live in an escalation of anxiety

Is it really a home?
When you’re just about to recover, and this house no longer serves its purpose as your safe haven?

Is it really a home?
When you can’t sleep on your own bed
And you take a peek at your cracked door
With a half broken knob
With your luggage zipper unattached
With your laptop gone

Is it really a home?
Knowing that everyone is unsafe
Knowing that as much as you try mitigating the risk
It will eventually happen again

Is it really a home?
When now you can’t trust anyone
And you look around
And can’t look at people the same way again

Is it really a home?
If your trauma

resurfaces

If I can survive failure
And heartbreak
And prague
All in one year

This should be nothing.