Is Anybody Home? by Theresa Azemar

Is Anybody Home?


Knock, knock, knock

Who’s home? Not us, not us, not us.

When you exist where you must

and not where you’d like to, why exist, why exhaust?

Place, we tell ourselves, matters most.


When you know that your home is across that sea, aging without you

It hurts.

When you can only imagine the waves crashing on that distant tide, all day, all night,

It hurts.

When all of home and every adolescent recollection is

broken down to that scribbled image in your head,


It hurts.

Home is so unreal now; we might as well have never been there.


So, is anybody home? If so,

Let us in, let us in, let us in.

We are tired of sleeping on this ice-cold porch while the neighbors

lock their doors and twist their blinds shut.

Is anybody home? Or are we all just making do with the place we’re in?


We could make this a home, if we needed to.

We could get married here, if we needed to.

We could buy a house here, if we needed to.

We could have a child here, if we needed to.

Perhaps need is what makes place matter most.

Or so we tell ourselves.


Can you help us?

We’ll hold our breath until

We can let in the air that welcomed us into this world.

We’ll hold it for the rest of our lives if we must.


If no one is home, then you cannot keep this door shut.

If no one is home, then this wall belongs to no one.

If no one is home,

then you cannot say that we are not already there.

The best thing you can do right now is be at home with us.

By Theresa Azemar, Hopeprint 2019 Summer Intern

Instagram: @thatcantbewrite

and LinkedIn:

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