Bri Brookes Jun 20, 2018 in Writing Home (a poem) Home 08/07/18 They say “home is where the heart is” and where the heart is, is fragmented between your bed sheets, lingering in your musk and over the surface of your skin. Home is where the ticking of your watch interrupts my thoughts and the distant sound of guitar from the other room you sit in as I sit on this velvet couch warms my ears. Home is in the broken sound from the projected films on your walls that confuse my ears. Projected on the wall across from the wall stained in the memory of paintbrushes and sea sponges from that time we played practice artists for our future selves. Who will paint blue the wall already stained in blue paint my name and other textures and...