The Lights are on but Nobody’s Home

I saw a house in my dreams, I thought of you-and the lights, they were on Losing friendships, the ones you love, and the overwhelming fear and sadness that follow are emotions we all know too well. In Amelia Wilson’s coming of age, sentimental collection of poetry, The Lights are on but Nobody’s Home, these emotions are exaggerated. With a lingering metaphorical house, a light that flickers and dims as relationships cease to exist, and walls representing cages, Wilson confesses the utter truth and yearning that defines the essence of losing one’s self in love. There forms an ache in our chests as loneliness closes in on us like a dark womb. To overcome self-sabotage, anger, and heartache, we must learn to accept what has happened and learn to revive ourselves and lift ourselves from the dark well.This collection of poetry gathers the reader and carries them through time, from high days in love to loss, fear, and self-redemption. Nothing is more important than keeping hold of oneself through the pain. We are strong. We are okay. We are our own light and salvation.