Thank you so much Sizzla. I'm sorry for the confusion my threads caused. I do apologize.

What Is Home?


Bricks stacked high in four walls
inner lined with scratchy pink filling,
a creaking sounds and I know you're home.
I catch my breathe hearing powder blue carpet
shuffle then the sudden click. Must mean a clam day
for this forbidden need of mine.

You're better off in your room, mine
but inches away, with sage green walls
between us bouncing back our silent day.
Stale air stings down my throat filling
with assumptions of why the carpet
is stained ugly red. I once knew home

to be a sanctuary, now "home"
simply means a bed and meals. Mine
and your discomfort scatters across carpet,
spilling over door ways, splattered against walls
as yellow ribbon wraps us filling
this place with seedy eyes at the end of the day.

That day...
was shown a new meaning of home.
There was hard contact of flesh. Then trash filling
your mouth as I dared you to take mine.
You lunged, slammed me against the walls.
I felt 'it' roll away in the old carpet.

And there, crumpled on carpet,
was every grudge worn that day
we left our discrepancies smeared on the walls
so when they arrive to an empty home
it will be understood that mine
was lost in yours filling

up to the brim 'til release, filling
the unanswered. Covering the carpet
in the heat of the moment was all mine
and yours. Our secret spilled that day
when we couldn't avoid each other at home
causing needs to echo off those walls.

This was yours and mine, that lust filling
our veins, knocking boots against the wall. Carpet
cushioned our fall that day when we made a new "home".