The number 2
Two houses is what I call home, with two kitchens and a bed in two places I roam.
I walk the streets without knowing what’s next, could it be the worst or it may be the best, with arguments I hear and the stuff that I see, I ever wonder if it's had an effect on me, with secrets to have and nothing to be told is something that made these places so cold, for I don’t like to argue or scream or shout, but sometimes, it’s how my words get out.
For I sit late at night, not a sound in reach, for the things I say in my head I will preach. With two of everything all of my life, I wonder what it’s like for a husband and a wife,
when you get married how do you feel, do you feel as if the world has just gotten real, do you want this person for the rest of your life, or maybe you don’t want a husband or wife,
for questions I ask who will answer, like diseases in the world, what causes cancer? With the things I own, and the things I share, I wonder if I get all up in peoples hair, do I bother people I know, but they just don’t let it show, do they know I’m here or am I just a sound in their ear.
With two car's and dogs, the answer lays in the fog, something you mightn’t understand, or maybe you just can't, when you look at the sky and you ask why, you only live a bit, so ask every question with a smile, I can’t tell you this and I can’t tell you that, because you promised this and I promised that,
I miss people that are dead, but I don’t tell anyone as it is different in my head, I wish it was one home with one happy family, with one father one mother and we all live happily, with my sister and my brother, we’re from the same mother, I might not know his father but I know I’m some man’s daughter.
For those who choose to leave and those who choose to stay are the people I hope to see everyday, I don’t read this note, because it’s not something I quote, I leave the thoughts in my head and put my thinking to bed.
When it’s late and night, when there is no light, I think and I sit, and I watch and I blink, the more blinks I take, is the more tired I’ll be, but I can’t stop thinking of what’s best for me, do I talk to someone, do I say what I need to, but what’s in my head I don’t want to be in yours too, I cry to myself because I find comfort all alone, but some days I wish it wasn’t two places I called home,
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