House versus Home
It aches me to see
The different dynamics.
How other families work.
Watching a friend
Speak openly
Into the space around them,
For everyone to hear.
Their usual calm
A bubblying excitement.
It aches me to see
A home be a home
While I live in a home
That is no more than a house.
A home is welcoming,
Friendly, inviting.
It is a place you can be yourself.
The home I reside in is a house
With a homely facade.
I cannot be myself within the confines
Of these walls.
I have trained to be quiet
In social settings
Because quiet
Is all that is welcome
In my house.
In others homes
I find myself quiet
As that is how
I am trained to be.
Always quiet. Nothing else.
Our volume must be soft
So the television can be heard.
Irritation and anger ignite
When our voices get high.
The only safe space
That I ever have
Is the four walls
That make up my room.
A friend told me once
My room feels safe.
I know that it does
Because I’ve made it this way.
I’ve created the ambiance
Of safety for myself.
Someone,
Please take me away.
Get me out of this house
And show me a home.
Copyright © Micheala Ruth September | Year Posted 2023
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