these days I don't belong just any one place - it's who I'm with, where I'm headed, who I love.
like Guy's Night, when you go by Kyle, because girls aren't allowed, so you eat pheasant and drink beer, and talk about toilet seats
it's someone else's mom calling you Daughter, because she remembers you at 9 years old, your awkward phases, and all the nights you spent at her house
or laying half asleep in a pile of friends, the kind of people you never doubt yourself with, because who you are, right now... they love
Sometimes, my feet, they ache for roots, for consistency,
but I can't help but recognize how blessed I am,
to find a Home in so many Houses.