Home

Home is where you can close your eyes and rest your head in your hands. Home is where is all the drama is, good and bad. Home is where the messes are and where the windows open up to let the fall breeze in…the noises…crisp oak leaves that shine bright like the sun falling down down down to the ground. Home is where you can cry as loud as you want to or make stupid jokes that no else thinks is funny. Home is where the heart is and I’m so grateful for mine.

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