Veronica Niero


My confession is: I’ve never really felt at home anywhere.
Like a migratory bird, I’ve always been restless and I am
even now, that there’s not an outside anymore. Even now,
that everywhere is home this is still just a house to me.
Just four walls and a bed and some storage room for my
Once I told you I wouldn’t like to buy a house.
It’s not that I could afford it anyway. You told me that’s what
adults do and I think maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s that I’m not
I don’t know about mortgage and tax return and stable
I never mow the lawn and sometimes I still get my laundry
I barely know how to keep myself alive. Last month I
a light-bulb by myself and felt like some kind of medal
worthy hero.
But I’m still scared of phone calls and answering the door.
I don’t know
about being safe and about love. Or at least I
didn’t know, before you.
So now, wherever you are, you’ll be my hometown. Which
is to say
the place where my best memories are kept, where I long
to return,
where there’s enough space for all my books and all the
we’ve yet to live.

Veronica Niero is from Venice, Italy and she is currently studying an MA in English and American Literature at the University of Kent in Canterbury. Her poems have appeared in anthologies by Train River Publishing and Eastside London. She is presently working on a poetry collection.