Just a Door

Home is not just a door that closes, But the stillness that follows, A breath held and released In the same moment. It is the weight that lifts The second you step inside, As if the world can pause, Just for you. It is in the silence between words The way the room fills With everything unsaid And yet It does not feel empty. Here, there is space For all the things you carry Without judgement Without haste. Home is the crooked frame With the creak of the floorboards, The small imperfections that tell stories No one else knows. It is the place where you do not have to explain Why you are weary, Why your smile is thin, Why your heart feels heavy, You are just here. And that is enough. The world outside fades, And inside, You are held. Home is the peace in knowing This is where you belong, Not because you are flawless But because the walls Already know you, And accept you, And love you. In the quiet, In the broken, In the messy, And in the real.