Dear Yuri,
I needed to come home.
Not home to fear,
Not home to the voice of chaos,
But home to love.
Not home to the grotesque memory
Of what tried to destroy me,
But home to what will restore my sanity.
Home to mother and father,
The ones who provide safety
From the hell that was my dorm room.
Not home to the television–
Which shows people who still find time for injustice in a universal crying time,
Which shows those who mock the good, but praise malice and unrelenting avarice.
Not home to them.
I needed to come home to life.
And to walks in the neighbourhood.
And to the rejuvenation
Of curling up with a book
And singing for my own peace.
So I came home.