Tiffany's poem begins by rejecting the usual meaning of "home." For her speaker, home isn't a house or an address but a person, someone she trusts so completely that she would hand over her heart without worry. Wherever that person goes, home goes with them.
The mood shifts as the poem moves along. The early lines feel warm and devoted, but then comes the admission that her home "doesn't like me as much as I like them." The love is uneven. The words "slowly" and "leisurely" make the drifting apart feel gentle and almost unnoticeable, which somehow makes it sadder. Nobody storms out; the grip just loosens.
The ending is quiet and bare. After talking about home as a person, the speaker is left with "these four walls," the very kind of ordinary home she said she didn't have. The poem leaves us with loneliness, and the ache of losing someone who was once her whole sense of belonging.