There is a room inside this house
Where the door knob burns, unwelcomed
palms
There is a corridor leading to this room
Where the walls shrink, unwelcomed
Souls
There is a room inside this house
That is painted bright and light
There is a corridor leading to this room
That is painted with blood and sparkles made of bones
There is a room inside this house
That we would call ours
There is a sofa inside this room
Where we would lay and live.
My heart is a house that’s welcoming
My heart is a kid’s room
Where imagination live, thrive and survive
My heart is place, that you would call yours
No longer,
There is no home.
There is no there, there.