DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.

My House

 

 

My home is a place

 

where a straw welcome mat beckons all types of shoes and boots,

 

where a wreathe circles a diamond front-door window

 

that is meant to engage all visitors.

 

The floors are a cascade of hardwood,

 

intended to be occupied by arched feet

 

that will never fully assimilate in a way that they would with carpet.

 

 

My home is a place that is meant to be inside of me,

 

beaming out like the bright of a light bulb, even when I’m not there. 

 

Though I must point out the basement

 

is my utmost beloved lair.

 

 

My bedroom, though the size of a jail cell,

 

comforts me as I occupy one side of the bed,

 

leaving room for whatever guardian angel that may fly in from Heaven

 

through my turquoise- adorned window.

 

 

A refrigerator stands in the kitchenette

 

that my parents don’t use but keep boxes of baking soda in.

 

The La-Z-Boy is garbed in carpet-like material,

 

creating a ying of uncomfortable and yang of comfortable between the upstairs

 

and the downstairs.

 

 

My closet doors open like a bird’s flapping wings.

 

I keep my bedroom door closed to ease the fear

 

that comes with the horrific groan from the furnace room,

 

 

which screeches until I swing open the furnace room door 

 

and whatever monster stood there before  

 

retreats into nothingness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.