My house is not new, but not particularly old
But it feels as though lifetimes are weaven through its folds
Memories, so simple we forget
It stores them all, like a safety net
I remember when we had party
One of my relatives, couldn't find her car keys
I remember when the moon was blood red
I was outside, looking until I was forced to bed
I remember when I laughed so hard I cried
My sides hurt so much, but I just sighed
All these memories, the house never lets them go
Simple, small but wonderful
My house, my home, my memories.
And they never go.

The venom laced with honeyed words
To all else no harm is heard

But I have seen in your eyes
Kindness has met its demise

Your words are stated - sufficed
Weaven, woven ahead of mine

Thoughts you own them in my mind
Rented, noted in due time

Notice taken of your ways
Insults you’ve layered under names

State your feelings known
Your true intentions thought not shown

Words weave wonders along the way
If you just say them, would feel sane

Because I know your wicked score
I have not tasted violence before

But this intricate pathetic morse  
Makes me wonder - if time suits more