They Are My Home

They chose me, they didn’t need to, they didn’t have to, but they did. I couldn’t say why. I am sharp and my edges have cut them all more than just once or twice. I have cut them out and hurt them and I tried to leave if only to keep them safe but they pulled me back. They wrapped me up and held onto me while I lashed and clawed at them. They held me close as my fire blazed on, even when it was burning them… I don’t know why they held on, but they did.

I will chose them, I will always choose them. They held onto me when all I wanted to was drift away and so I am theirs. I will chose them, not the ones who are my flesh and blood, not the ones who say I should be theirs but the ones who held me while I was burning through everything I touched. They held me above water to stop me drowning any further and for that I don’t think I could ever not chose them.

I don’t think I’m good for them. I am harsh and my edges hurt them, I wish I was blunt or soft or dull but I’m not so I am scared to hurt them, I was scared. I pushed against them again and agin but they just pulled me closer. They held me tight as I burnt them and I don’t know why, why would they when even my own family pushed me away. They held me close and I don’t know why.

They love me, I don’t know how I know it, it is as true as the sky is blue, grass is a plant and they love me. I can’t explain why, because I don’t know. I am so jagged and broken and I keep hurting them but they love me. I don’t know why, but they do and they are mine.

I hurt. I know I do, I know my hugs are too sharp and my words cut even when I try to coat them in honey and be kind. They are patient with me, they let me lash out and don’t try to dull my edges. They adore my fire even when it burns. I can use my broken pieces for good sometimes, I can fight for those I love and I fight for them. I may burn them by simple design but I can set those who hurt them ablaze and for that I can smile at least. I never wanted to hurt, but I do and they still love me, even when my fire burns them.

I love them, I wish I wasn’t jagged and broken so I could show it like they do. I show them my love and I don’t know if they can tell but regardless they still hold onto me. I try for them, not to be so sharp, to dull my fire even for a second so when they hug me close I can hug back. I know they see that, they tell me that I am hurt and it is okay to be hurt but I don’t want to be hurt, I don’t want to hurt them.

They chose me, they choose to hold me and to love me and I don’t know what I would do without them. They are my home, the ones who chose to love me and who love me even when I hurt them. They love me because they know that I try not to hurt them, they love me even when I do hurt them. I don’t know how they became my home, how they have managed to survive my fire and my edges but they have and every day I thank them for it. They chose me, and it is because of that I have a home.