"

I am in love with a boy
who ripped me apart
to keep himself warm.

We open ourselves like thick oak doorways,
draw out the welcome mats
with years of dust and dirt ingrained.
My eyes are windows,
he pulls the shades shut.
Everyone carries around something
ancient baggage
but my hands are cracked and swollen
from the weight.

Silly women
are always working so hard
at lessening themselves.
Silly men
are always working so hard
at owning them.

But I was not unlocked.
My name was never ‘Home’.

"


Michelle K., He Named Me ‘Home’. (via michellekpoems)

Tbh I’m just looking for the Bob Saget to my John Stamos.