I tried making home of other men.
Front doors of their sternums
Two story foyers
of their torsos
and porcelain stairs of their ribs.
Tracked myself
in and out of their memories
looking for space for my baggage.
Had conversations with
my echos as I screamed
I LOVE YOU
into hollow atriums.
Made my bed on diaphragms and felt
each draft of
inhale
exhale pieces of me to...somewhere.
I tried making home of other men.
Hang memories on occipital lobes
Affix my name to Broca's areas
so the world knew
I found home in another man.
I am tired of making home in other men.
Foundations thought solid
grow legs and wander way out yonder
Take my memories and love
leaving me nothing but my empty.
I am tired of making home in other men.
Tending hedges
shining floors
and making welcome for those
deemed worthy of home - not me.
I am tired of making home in other men
so I will make home in myself.
Put my hands on every crack
lay smooth my rough edges
and plant beauty in my own yard.
I am tired of making homes for other men,
so I will make this home for me.