Empty days

I wanna go home,
but home was never made of walls.
It was the way you said my name
like it belonged somewhere soft.
It was your hands finding mine
in a world that never stayed still.
It was the silence between us
that somehow said everything.

Now everyone asks why I look lost,
but how do I explain
that the place I ache for
was a person?

You were the only roof
that kept the rain out of me.
The only light left on
when every part of life went dark.
I could wander through a thousand cities
and still be nowhere
if you were not there.

I wanna go home,
but the doors of your heart
do not open for me anymore.
The windows are dark now,
the porch light gone,
and my name no longer lives
in the mouth of your love.

I still stand outside sometimes,
in the cold of missing you,
hoping memory will turn the handle,
hoping the past will let me in
for one more night.

I miss the way your chest
felt like a place to rest.
I miss the way your voice
could make even sadness sound gentle.
I miss who I was
when I was loved by you—
how the world seemed smaller,
how pain seemed survivable,
how forever felt possible.

Now it’s just me,
walking through rooms of empty days,
carrying keys
to a house that no longer exists.

And when I say
I wanna go home,
I do not mean a street
or a childhood bed.
I mean I want to find my way
back to your arms,
back to the only place
I ever felt safe,
back to the love
that made a home out of me.