The Home Inside My Head
Sometimes I forget why I write and so I stop, and it feels like part of my soul cries, until I pick up the pen and begin again.
There are rooms inside the
Home I built in my head
That I don’t like to open
But I do
Shoving more negative thoughts
Squeezing them in one by one
Closing the door
Locking it
Only emptying it once in awhile
When I hand a friend the key
And let her see all of me
Somehow setting me completely free
Big love and big dreams,
A