You aren’t home to me.

I won’t lose myself in your brown eyes that know how to lull me to sleep or the dimple in your smile that seems to indent itself into memories of midnight passion.

I won’t lose myself in my addictive fixation of loving you, of wrapping myself into the stories that make up the deepest parts of you, of letting you trace my willing curves with your poisonous eyes.

I won’t lose myself in love.

I want to lose myself in writing in a little cafe, somewhere I can watch people walking down the street.

I want to lose myself in my favorite Bianca Sparacino poems. They fill me with more passion than you ever will.

I want to lose myself in that one Dimitri Milan painting I love, you know, the one where the girl is exploding into a beautifully tragic flurry of neon violet chaos.

I want to lose myself in the exhilarating aroma of dark roast coffee in the morning, no matter how much I hate drinking it without French Vanilla creamer.

I want to lose myself in James Arthur singing Say You Won’t Let Go, because that song makes me want to scream out a million love letters.

I want to lose myself in the way the scent of lavender will always remind me of my two dogs, whom I always miss.

I want to lose myself in the way I sometimes feel with everything I have, while people are scared of feeling anything at all.

I want to lose myself in my writing, lord knows it’s half of me.

I want to lose myself in my curiosity for the world, of learning it’s secrets, of feeling it’s love along a river, washing along my fingertips.

I want to lose myself in knowing I am not a reflection of those who leave, of those who tried to teach me that when people leave it’s because you were less than what they needed.

I want to lose myself while i’m learning to love myself and learning to let go of the ones who can’t.

I want to lose myself in my hunger for more, for more passion, more desire, more reasons to fight sleep at 2AM, just to wonder why life is so beautiful.

But I won’t lose myself in you.

I won’t lose myself in love.

I won’t lose myself in someone that is not a home to me.

“You are your own home — please don't ever forget that.” -Bianca Sparacino