"PADDED WALLS"

Home is a sure place.

Padded walls of dependability and of immunity.

Padded walls that keep the world from seeping in.

Maybe it's become all too customary; Every visit is a carbon copy of the last.

Before walking through the front door, we all drop our luggage (and our baggage) at the step,

so we can band together the same way we always have.

We all play our part and settle back into our genetic roles.

Don't rock the boat, my mind tells me. 

Always unable to unite as anything different than what we were last time—despite all that's happened since.

Home is a sure place.

Padded walls of history,

suffocating any free rein future you may have in mind.

Padded walls that lower their heads to ultimate freedom.

Sound-proof walls that ensure your self-doubt and apprehension are silent and unheard. 

Padded walls that beg that you all, just please, snap into your familial identity again.

Sink back into me, they say. Be comfortable.

Because elbowroom and plane tickets and delusions are too heavy for these padded walls—

these padded walls that are home.