Homesick

When I lay curled up in bed
in the dark hours of the night,
a foreign feeling weeps to me.
it envelopes my body
and seeps into my skin.
it is hunger.
A hunger for home,
familiarity,
comfort.
For belonging,
for shelter.
A yearning for something.
I do not know concretely
what I so longingly desire
But it is there,
a dull ache buried deep within me
that emerges
like an apparition
hazily but surely,
when I am alone