Sometimes I think my house is rejecting me
Like i'm a transplant gone away
the walls grumble in protest and
the floors tremble beneath me,
even as i sleep, even as i dream
On some nights, the fire rages
it licks at the wood and reaches with a hand
it beckons for me to submerse myself in it
but I remember the strength of your arms around me in bed
I remember telling you how safe i felt there
and then you left
now the voices scream at me though the walls  
no matter how many times I try to rip the paper
now the chairs hold me down when I sit
no matter how many balloons I tie to my wrist
I can't help but wonder what came first:
the house or the host
did someone build a home  
because they needed somewhere to sleep?
or did someone turn the lights on because they thought the place looked empty?
I think i was meant to occupy empty houses
and i think i was meant to be a home for those who need one
until they don't anymore
I'm sorry i couldn't keep you warm
I'm sorry i couldn't keep the light on
**I'm sorry