ByKriti Raju

I went back to my home today,
the one I’d left behind when,
unable to endure I had,
run away to never return, again.

Later, finally grounded I,
felt the need for roots and so,
I upped and headed home,
having never forgotten that route.

I knocked once on my wooden door,
And then I knocked again,
I knocked until my knuckles bled,
I would not force, but I would not bend.

An hour later, when my arm was numb,
I glared at the stout doorway,
It had never quite occurred to me that,
Home could also run away.