So I had the idea to write a poem from Jughead's perspective. Hope you enjoy!

Home

Home was empty bottles and my father's vacant eyes.

Home was hunger and nothing to satisfy it.

Home was a silence that filled the space my mother and sister left

.

Home was a cot in a corner.

Home was cold nights.

Home was hiding

.

Home was a cupboard under the stairs.

Home was pretending to leave just to come back.

Home was a stolen space-heater keeping me warm.

Home was hiding from the janitors

.

...

.

Home is blond hair and green eyes.

Home is her arms.

Home is her love and loving her.

Home is a beanie that no longer needs to be worn.

Home is a heart that always feels full.

Home is a broken girl who found a broken boy.

And together, they became whole.