Tell me, mother,
if I let my hands blister from reaching for you,
if I bite my tongue until it bleeds to protect my virtues,
will you love me then?
or will I always be the child you sigh at,
half love, half regret?

Tell me, father.
if I stand taller, speak less,
make myself small enough to fit inside your expectations of "the best",
will you be less disheartened?
or will I always be a shadow of the son you yearned?

Tell me, sis,
if I break myself into pieces,
lace my voice with sweetness,
shield you from every storm,
will you see me then?
or will I forever be the ghost you'd ignore?

Tell me, friend,
if I let you take and take,
if I swallow every "I'm tired before it leaves my lips,
if I love you more than I love myself,
will you stay?
or was I always meant to be left?

tell me,
how much of me must I carve away,
before I am worth keeping?

I'll build you a home in the marrow of me,
stitch your name into the walls of my ribs,
inch by painful inch.

I'll fill my heart with whispers of your name,
so you'll feel more at home in my arms all day.
I'll carve out rooms to make spaces for you,
leave the doors open, let the lights shine through.

I’d cut the wound up like windows to let the wind in,
rearrange every corner to your liking,
just please, my love, don't ever leave me aching.

I would tear down the ceilings if you needed the sky,
strip myself to the bone if it meant you won't lie,
please, flower,
just stay abide.

I will wallpaper the walls with every soft word you’ve spoken,
fill the floors with warmth I've treasured for you, my person,
just tell me you won’t leave, that you won't abandon
as if I were never worth your precious seconds.

What else should I do to make this home better for you?
Tell me,
the shade of paint I should use,
or type of wood I should choose,
just to make my heart worth a stay, my muse.