Sticky Rice

Natalie Heinitz, 131 YinD

Home is the Nationals’ radio broadcast while I make breakfast and

Home is Kacey’s “Slow Burn” while I stretch away the stress and

Home is reading for hours on end and

Home is mindlessly singing John’s “I’m So Tired” while I wash the dishes and

Home is doodling the webs in my mind.

Home is hearing the guitar intro to Neil’s “Needle and the Damage Done” and realizing that was what my dad was playing after all these years and starting to cry and

Home is needing to hug my mom and

Home is still grieving the dog I couldn’t say bye to and

Home is Springer’s ice cream and summer chlorine and my grandpa’s wool sweaters and knowing I can’t have them but

Home is welcoming the thunder of midnight trucks, when I used to cower and

Home is always leaving my front door wide open and

Home is saying, no we live with the bugs and

Home is being Nata-LEE with an emphasis on the LEE and

Home is craving rice for breakfast.

Homes are given and homes are taken but

I guess I never realized that means they’re more often created

And when I think of home, well,

It’s the memories, not the places

And home will be whatever I need it to be

Until I don’t need to think anymore because actually,

I’m home already.

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