I walk on paths that will lead me to a house
I do not call a home
I walk past houses that speak of warmth and honey on toast
Of spaces with large green gardens
Tall trees
strong oak
I smell the unfamiliar stench of normal
Whatever normal is supposed to be
I taste the letters on my eager tongue
Normal
Normal is what I am not
Normal is what I do not have
I see families on the streets
Little children laughing and playing
Togetherness
United with love
So when I walk
My heart fills with a bitter feeling of
'No'
But there is no point wanting something that you can never have
So I change the liquid that
Shifts through my lungs and windpipe
Happiness a faint beating pulse
Because at least somewhere
In a different house
A different home
There is warm honey
On toast.
By Consciousthoughts/C