Maybe sad is my home
and thats why I walk myself
down the same criss-cross roads
day after day
visiting the bar we first grazed hands
where I fleetingly felt hope
the tight space under my parents bed
where I laid to avoid getting slapped
the hospital room in the Heights
where I said goodbye to what of her was left
the Airbnb, advertised as charming and cozy
where I tossed his toothbrush hours after his last breath
maybe sad is home
because it is all I know