Hometown is Homesick (prompt from Rose)

Home is a place, 
place is space paused in moment,
moment is emotion rubbed into memory

Home for me feels like a fleeting moment 
And lost memory
In a space I am not sure can exist anymore 

My homesickness is hometown
I am permanently displaced 
always half departing venue of
supposedly human 
and supposedly woman

I am not sure why I was brought here

My spirit still has charred pieces from the transition
My body beaks down often from the traveling, the moving
The manifestation of my awkward keeps moving to pretend there is somewhere to go 
as if I have not been lost since offset,
since origin

Maryland
Born
a place a year too far away for me to draw memories into it's distance
I cannot remember who me is
And so, have no whereabouts as to who or where she was

I have lost notions of the place that taught me loss, it is where i keep my dead history, the death in my history 
As if, unlike me, it will stay there

DC
Is forgotten self made and divinely declared home
Loves me like a betraying grandmother
Or some other mystic kin
Maybe a swinger aunt
A husband with amnesia,
I am told that we have history 
But I don't remember what it was like to love you

I see the photographs and poems that prove we have been places together
But can't remember those feelings
I cant help but feel like I am living in someone elses house

Nigeria
Made
Me a child of missing centuries before the wombing 
We still hold on to the few things that time and space and men with prophetic names like "Lord" divied us
It must not miss me like it did before it unlearned how to
And is the murderous mountain from which my rolling avalanche of travel fell

All of these are places that have changed despite me
Have become dismissive emotionally disrespectful memories lost to big pockets dug deep enough to fit big buildings and needed bodies 

If I had learned nothing of home
in people, in memories and emotion
I would not know anything of loss

I am from every city that asks to be missed for the sake of evidence that someone knew it once

The nostalgia floating to the top of any land with the top layer of it's skin burning it unrecognizable

This,
Is the stomach churning, the gut wrenching place, moment of degorge in yet to be tacit diasporing,
The homesick I call hometown

One day I will  laugh at the audacity of thinking I could be from "somewhere"
Sending down a thunderstorm from heaven, in earth they will call it an earthquake, or hurricane,
A natural disaster,

This world is not my home.