Houses

June 13, 2023 || poetry/prose

(This poem is dedicated to some of my friends and found family: to panda and ros, and especially to bunnie, denim, and tall.)

houses ─────────────────

Here (in my house), there are two people who do not understand the half of me. They have full control over me. They love me, as much as one can love someone whom they do not understand the half of. I love them, or at least I love one of them, but still it is lonely. To be known is to be loved, after all. 

Rarely do they both leave the house. When one of them leaves, I am quiet. When the other leaves, I am free. When they both leave, I sing at the top of my lungs and wonder if the neighbors can hear me. Or, they can definitely hear me, so I guess I just think about that.

Here (in my house), I am usually glass.

I know I’ve made this sound terribly dramatic, especially the first couple of lines. I know I’m not the only person whose parents don’t understand them, whose parents have full control over them, who are lonely. I know there are millions of us in similar situations. It doesn’t make me special, or anything, that I don’t feel fully safe most of the time in my house — but this isn’t even about my house. It’s about yours.

Here (in your house), I am skin and bone, flesh and blood, muscle and water and soil and sun.

Here (in your house), I am human again.

Thank you for sharing your home with me. <3  

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