There's a place Growing in the back of My head. The bricks are watered By discomforts and Depression. The Windows are Sprouted In earth composed of a mixture of Anxiety and PTSD.
I want a home where Your shadows Are as familiar to the walls As a spouse. Where you can hide, But feel like you don't have to.
I want your peels of laughterΒ Β To litter my living room Floor, Your smiles to stain My ceiling fans, And your tears to fill my kitchen Sink.
I want a home Of grace and charity Where I can protect the broken And pained. The image is growing in The back of my head, The need is rooted in my skull. The blasting heat Of your parent's anger, Is the sun For it's photosynthesis.
We can have midnight Conversations At the kitchen table, Where you can Unscrew the bolts in your Iron Armor And let loose the demons You've been trapped with, To burn in our hot water heater.
There's a place I want for you, A home cultivated by Your brother and I, A loving hideaway For Grace and Charity.