i have never thought much about what home means, how it feels. mostly, ive never thought about how it would be to not feel it, like an anchor in my body always drawing me to my sea, letting me sway and drift amongst its waves and tempratures. letting the water drown out all thoughts of depsair, but accompying me and guiding me back to my core. the core of me which has always been uncertain, lingering around everywhere and nowhere, becasue how does one really know what exists beneath the depths? is the darkness with space to fill the only way to describe the holes inside, or is it something else there, somehting that anchors me to a sepcific feeling of sunlight filtering through the waves, glittering specks of gold dancing their song of joy to me? those moments, that anchor, has been carrying the same feeling as my home. my home that bounds me to the only sense of safety in this insecurity around who i am, who i might be. it hits me like a surfer who falls and loses his wings, like swallowinf galllons of water, which might be how surfers feel when their best friend betrays them and throws them down, how in a split second of fear, they might question whether or not the ocean really is their friend, or if it goes by the saying, keep your friends close but your enemies closer. because this place is my sea, my anchor, my home, and yet i have never felt so empty being here as i am now. i feel lost in my streets, those i know by heart. i feel empty surrounded by buildings reminding me of what once was. seeing my home, my anchor being in ruins, feels the same as one would feel theirselves be lost in a battle. that hoplessness tugging on all the strings of my heart, despair feeling me up like a heavy weight, mostly losing what used to be my only safety. i look at the shabby-chic apartments, where kids would always run around and laugh, their sounds spreading a reminder that there is good in this world, their carelessness reminding each passerby, each hurried businessman chasing profit, that there is no reason to rush, its laid out on your nose. i see the old oak tree, where we met. where he first kissed my cheek with a red tint in his cheeks, the sparkle in his eyes reminding me of a stars on dim nights. how they were reflected in his freckles, that spread across his face like the starnight, those nights where anything felt possible. when the sky wasnt the limit, it was the promise of other lives out there, of worlds we dreamt of seeking together. now, they are as dead as the rest of the city. contuine walking down the streets, each house left crisp and burnt by the fire that swallowed the whole town, like a dragons breath whispering death upon each citizen. it took away the breath of my one and only sea. this town anchored us. but he was my sea, without it, there is nowhere to drown, to swim, to surf. all thats left are the stark, pitch dry desert of loneliness.