I want you to create a home within me.
My bones will creak and weep like old floorboards, my eyes will shimmer like attic windows and i'll radiate heat like the ancient gas stove.
You can lock the doors to the rooms you don't want to sleep in, you can board the windows to the places of me you want to keep dark.
You can put a Welcome mat on the front porch if you decide you want to share me.
You can paint the walls a new color and put putty in the holes people gave me.
You can make me a vacation home and only visit me when you want, leaving me alone the other three seasons you're gone living your life without a home.
Just whatever you do, don't leave ghosts behind in me.
I want you to create a home within me.