Home

Megan Van Autreve

i want to go home

oh god, i want to go home

i want to go back to my childhood home

where the swing set sways in the backyard

where i knew the halls like the back of my hand

where my parents loved each other

or at least i pretended they loved one another

 

i want to go home

oh god, i want to go home

i want to go back to my childhood home

where we couldn’t go too far into the backyard

where the wolves howled in the night

where i caught fireflies and put them in a jar

and pretended they loved me

 

i want to go home

oh god, i want to go home

i want to go back to my childhood home

where everyone knew my name

where marigold told me she loved me

where i pushed my sister into the snow

and, for the first time, she told me she hated me

 

i want to go home

oh god, i want to go home

i want to go back to my childhood home

where the oak out front stood tall and true

where the world felt small when i went as high as i could on the swing

where my parents first told me they loved me

and where they never hated me

 

i want to go home

oh god, i want to go home

whatever that could possibly mean