Home is not a place.

It's the sound of your voice.

It's the roughness of your fingertips.

Home is not a place.

It's the peace that lies within shared silence.

It's the comfort in meaningless conversation.

Home is not a place.

It's your whispers in the dark.

It's your warmth when it's cold.

Home is not a place.

It's the steadiness of your breath.

It's the sound of your heartbeat.

Home is not a place.

It's looking into your squinty blue eyes every morning.

It's your presence.

Home is not a place.

Home is wherever you are.