Paradise

My friends when I was younger asked me what paradise was to me.

At the time I was in it.

I loved nothing more than my “friends” and our time together.

But, every time this question pops up, the answer always changes. 

But, while I’ve been gone,

I’ve noticed the one thing I took for granted.

I thought that this would be my paradise when I got here.

But, a week in, I felt like something that was missing.

I couldn’t tell what it was.

But, as soon as I hopped into my sister’s car,

I kissed my dad’s cheek,

I ruffled my little brother’s wiry poofy curls.

He slapped my hand away while laughing.

My dad couldn’t stop asking me questions and making sure I liked it

I remember asking my brother if my dad was okay

He laughed and said, “Yeah. Why are you asking?”

I remember grabbing my duffel and throwing it in the trunk, “Because he’s being so nice to me.”

At that time, I couldn’t fathom how much my family loves me. 

I thought that once I left,

That I was gone for good.

But, now that I’m seeing my family clearly,

I don’t want to go.

So, as I answer this question,

Which will undoubtedly change,

As it has so many times before.

My paradise?

My paradise is riding in the backseat of my dad’s truck

Listening to Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd, Metallica….

Laughing and just enjoying my family’s presence.