Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

What Was

Since last July,
when my sister and I were forced to move my parents’ our of their home in Texas,
I have been homeless.
Yes,
I have a roof over my head
in Nashville,
but Nashville isn’t home.
Home is Wade Hampton.
Home is 713-464-8774.
Home is where I lost my baby teeth.
Had my first period.
Kissed a boy.
Home is where Mattie told me stories about the big white cat
who would eat me
if I walked across the freshly mopped floors.
Home is where I would run
whenever someone was mean to me at elementary school.
Home is where we ate Thanksgiving dinner,
and opened Christmas presents,
and had Shipley doughnuts on Saturday morning
while we watched Bugs Bunny cartoons.
Home is where I hid in the closet,
where I dreamed of being a star,
where I learned I didn’t matter.
Home is where the arguing
was as constant as the t.v.
It was never great,
but it was home.
Now I am like a bee
whose hive was knocked down
from the tree.
I am hovering,
and buzzing
and trying to make sense of what isn’t there.
I have no place to land,
and no where to go,
and I can not recreate what was.