Why did no one tell me
That i cant turn people into homes?.
I excuse you
Always
That's what u do
When ur house burns to the ground
You blame yourself
For not being around
For not being responsible
For not being sound.
I remember your voice ,
Sometimes,
it reminds me of
A stream that burbles as it travels along its bed, bubbling over rocks and branches and door locks.
What do i remind you of?
Thunder and storms maybe
And all its noisy forms.
I remember the rainy day fight
I remember the messed up things
You said
Like how you've never loved me
And to whatever that led
However, what upset me the most
Is The loathe u have for storms
How u said it filled u with abhorrence
And how you'd rather leave then
Adjust to it.
That's when i realized
Im no longer
The person you knew
That holds into things too tightly
Until their fingers turn blue
I always thought loosing things
Would make me loose a part of me too.
I know you loved me
But that doesn't mean i felt loved
By you.
Now you remind me of hotel rooms
Ranted for a night and left by noon
You're no longer a home
You're the welcome matt
I would never use.
