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i was 'home'less long before the council declared me so, and i think i've found it now.
There is so much pain in this world, but not in this room.
Not with the tattered receipts and cards stuck to my walls,
or the photos of friends on every corner.
Candid photos; ones I probably wouldn’t share elsewhere.
Not with the bookshelf and the piles that come along with it,
my notes in every margin and the spines slowly breaking,
each one of them a memory of care and passion.
Not with the chipped bowls and decorated mugs,
broken from when we drank too much, and danced in the stairway.
Not with the assorted hangers in the wardrobe,
collected from others’ before I had a place to call my own.
There is so much pain in this world, and in mine.
But never in this small,
but decorated,
home.
