I love this house,
the yellow stucco,
    my thinking tree, the one who's tallest branch helped me escape from the things below.
I love my room,
  it has absorbed everything about me into it's walls,
  they made me feel safe, and helped me escape

Sometimes I hate the owners who have shaped and molded me into the person I am now
They are the landowners and I am the renter
Coming and going without a trace and never offering nor receiving a likeness of an embrace