Navel

It’s a weird feeling.  Yes, 'weird', for lack of a better word.  This disconnect that sometimes happens between mother and daughter. To know that she was indeed your first home.  But now.  You must be home.A plot of land.Four walls.A roof.A shore for the weary.And a lighthouse for the lost.You can’t help it.  The urge is inherent.  You will spend forever.  Trying to build a bridge.  And the construction is louder than the destruction.  And if it wasn’t for the flames, you could both get to buildin’.