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Jun 2019
If I could build a future out of yesterdays hope
I would have a charming home
A quaint oasis that I built from our old love

I would have manifested our children
From stardust and cat-like curiosity
Their chubby toes would point them in the right direction always

If I could architect a future out of empty promises
I would have more than a deflated reality
An image of a home whos outline wavers
Ella’s name would not be make-believe
Her laughter would have filled my hallways
Her eyes would be known and her whole self-cherished

If it were possible to make out of what was taken
I would make my gate from recycled doors
That way I could have privacy
While always remembering how to let others in
how to stay open

I would show you how to blow air into a balloon, we would watch it fill up
So you could see that even dreams need something tangible to breathe life into them

I wish I could create with the disappointment you filled my life with
It is so abundant, it would be so practical it is littered throughout my memory
So much of what I am left with I can’t use to build, its *******
I cashed in five years just to realized you were a bad investment

If I could build from your lies a home
I would spread my capacity for caring softly across the surface of each room, like wallpaper
I would remove the hand-painted sign that read
"My home is where you are"
Because I have proven you are not the essentials needed
to make a house a home, I am.

Once I was told the universe was nothing and then it became something
Maybe this void that holds the space inside of me
Where my future plans and dreams dissolved
Where a skeleton of my almost family and life died
where the plot to build the home that will never be resides
Maybe that’s where my big bang can start

I need to make something bigger than the life I planned with you
Ill turn this nothing into something
Just watch me breathe life into my new beginnings
see my new home I build when the bricks are not soft-spoken manipulations of the truth
but are real bricks that bear weight and hold things up
A real home
Written by
Tea  In my own head
(In my own head)   
     BR Dragos and multi sumus
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