dear joe

dear joe,

please,
i want to come home.  

it’s very bright here.  
the food is good,  
the water’s clean,
the beatings are
practically
nonexistent. 

still, 
I want to come home.

dear joe, 

there are no locks on the doors.
we come and go as we please.
we wear what we want.

dear joe, 
i want to come home.

they keep telling me I am home.
they keep saying they love me.
they keep calling me a name
and claiming it’s mine, 
but it’s not mine.

dear joe,

I apologize for the informality
but I find when I use
your preferred name

nothing happens. 

it’s sinister and puzzling how
you aren’t answering.

I want to come home
and you’re not answering.
nothing happens.

maybe home
is wherever you end up
when you reach your limit
on answers?  when stuff
stops happening?

dear joe,
no matter.
if this is home,
supposed to be home,

make it feel better,
I beg of you,
please.