I’ve built this house and
lived in it for a while
I started to hang pictures on the walls.
Soon they started to rock,
shifting until they began to fall.
I’d step on shattered glass but
would’ve never grimaced
I didn’t want to keep bleeding
I was head of that house
for a while, all until the paint
started seeping through my hands.
I took a trip to live somewhere
else for some time. I started
building again. I looked back, and
both houses were decorated empty.
I couldn’t go back for less and had
to take time before rebuilding.