If i had a set of hearts to give, I would point the bow and arrow at boys that want to kiss you back. Men would never leave their families behind in a condo the single-mother cant afford, friends would never whisper jokes when you arent around, babies wouldn’t stop breathing on their third day. The tide would rise to the perfect height and the moon would always be full; never hiding of herself away. Hungry girls wouldn’t cut themselves open and drown in their own rubies. Their mothers would kiss the wounds closed, tell them tales that will come true. They would never be found in a bathtub at two am, and put into miniature boxes in the ground with padding all around. They would weave stories together for the others to follow. And somehow they would make it out of the dark.
Home. Piglet covered coffee mugs filled with tea before 11 am, cuddled up in floral blankets and sweet pups. Flower petals scattered across the carpet because it looks sweet. Doors slamming at ungodly hours as others leave for work. Little whispers into pillows when your love calls too late. Laughing behind doors, at silly shows when you're too tired to realize it really isn't, that funny. Gentle moms singing old tunes in the shower, steam peering out from under the bathroom door. Nail polish, and lots of it. Sitting on the curb watching the boys toss a ball around. (They are so horrible at it) Favorite shows at the same times. They have been the same for years. Diet cokes and secret smokes in the evening. Vanilla candles and bedside lamps, dim for reading poetry when the world is asleep.
What is home to you?