Alone at home
The house is a symphony of day-sounds,
And wants me gone.
Scattered toys express sullen resentment at my pyjama'd presence,
The cats just stare.
I force my working self upon this world,
With keyboard clacks,
The kettle,
And boiling pasta.
I try a hum, then Spotify,
But it all feels alien, too forced.
The house wants the others;
Shrieking, laughing, conversation,
Clashing plates,
A Disney movie
The warmth of family.
This house
wants to be a home.