What home is to me

A home is more than a building. A home is where I can be myself joyfully prancing all around or have a space of my own decorated to the brim with things I like without getting judged. A home is where I can feel safe without any worries in the world. A feeling built overtime or be free like a butterfly roaming, wherever I please, at anytime I wish, or be loved by my family who I grew up with and share many memories I hold dear. A home is where I can hear the joyful laughter filling my home and enthusiastic chatter. A home is where I can smell the aroma of savoury pasta filling my nose coming down the stairs. A home is where I can see the flower pot from a year ago once full of snow white chrysanthemum’s that long wilted away near the windows, where the petals danced away. A home is where I can taste the golden brown sponge cake me and my mother bake every week. That soft and sweet taste I can’t get anywhere else. A home is where all these small things put together the home I come back to everyday with a warm feeling like no other.