I’m Home


Like an old friend,
I welcomed myself home today…
as I drove at top speed on the toll road,
with music blasting,
windows down.

out of nowhere,
I heard myself chortle with glee.

I barely recognized the sound.

Too long you’ve been in exile, child.
Too long you’ve been at the mercy
of your bottomless need.
Too long you chased acceptance
  from misers and thieves.

I've stayed in my lane;
Handed over my power;
Sat in rooms behind curtains,
hidden away from their delicate egos,
leaving their entitlement unchallenged.

They said:
Not your place.
Not your time.
Not your people.

They asked me to shut up.
And as usual,
I obliged.
(Accommodation is my middle name, after all.)

So, for a while,
I wandered alone in the wilderness of my frustration.

What can I become
That will make them understand
I am here to be loved?

at 90 miles per hour,
on a hot and sunny Friday afternoon,
I woke from that awful dream.

I checked the review mirror just to make sure.

Later that evening, I showed up at my own doorstep,
with a crooked grin
and a terrible attitude.
“Where ya been?” I asked.
“I’ve been around. Just waiting,” I replied.
“Waiting for what?”

“For you. To love me.”

— Amanda Quraishi

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