You say
I am your home
I am merely
A 200 sq feet room
With no bed to sleep
No chairs to sit
No food to feed
Yet you lay here
Next to me
On the creaking floor
Under a
Dusty ceiling fan
We drink our tears
Nibble on our emotions
While I peek
As you walk to your home
Through these rusty window bars
I realize
With you
My heart feels like
A ruin with a mansion's garden
Yet each evening you
Come right back
To it.