I miss my home. The house I grew up in. The land I played on. This place I'm at, it's not home. It's never been home. You have no idea how badly I want to go back in time and keep my dad from moving. 

All I want to do right now is just go back to that house and play in the green grass. Cool off in the creek. I miss waking up in the morning and walking outside, onto the cool grass, and having the morning dew lick my feet. 

I miss the sun kissing my body. I miss the wind hugging me in it's cool breeze, and the chills is sent up my spine. 

This place isn't home. I don't belong here. You can't just move into a house, and say "welcome home!" That's not how it works. 

A home is not only a house itself, but there's something more to it. A feeling I can't explain. You just know when you're home.  You just get that warm feeling in your stomach, and it feels like the house itself is hugging you. Glad that you have finally returned home. 

I miss my home, and I won't rest

Until I'm finally home again. 

I miss my home.