#samjessweek

submitted by Molly

this isn’t home dean, this is where we work

we just happen to live here

home number one was perfect not mine too precious for me to own

no-one told me how it creaked at night

guess it’s not my memory

and they rebuilt without us but left the foundation there to

crumble under my weight

 

home number two is not mine either

your music

your car

our home, according to Chuck Fucking Shurley,

and i know it, intimately,

a security blanket that smothers

a trap that i help rebuild

againagainagain for miles

 

home number three

cannot possibly be as sweet as i remember

nostalgia lies

cookies burn at 200 degrees houses burn at 593 degrees on average

gold melts at 1084 degrees

and i have forgotten what she smelled like before smoke

 

home number four

is in double vision

i can’t remember how old i am anymore

 

home number five was practical and frantic and understanding and fragile

there was a dog

 

home number six is warded and shielded and safe

and i cannot sleep

because there is one broken door

and my skin is unmarked

and this is not home

this

is

not

home