you would too.

I find myself laid out in patches of sunlight
in hallways and bedrooms, like a fat cat,
like I did when I was little.
these days as we sift through everything we never knew we had.
boxes stacked where furniture belongs.
and mia's sprawled out beside me and we're zoned out,
well lit and warm, watching dust dance in the air,
the sounds of cars passing. soaking up home.
and my mom's stopped expecting my help packing,
perceiving my apprehension.
discerning my subtle hints of disapproval:
sifting through all the boxes she's packed;
decorating the boxes with elaborate sharpie designs;
literally unpacking boxes.
and she leaves me to my wandering.
because its one thing to move to a new house,
and another to box your life into storage.
and so I do odd things theses days-
taking pictures of doorknobs and the trees in my yard,
laying in carpeted hallways with my dog.
I listen to songs I know all the words to.
wear the clothes I wore yesterday.
and for now, I wake up in the same bed,
in the same patch of sunlight as all those mornings before.
I didn't leave for school, so home is leaving me.