Everyday. Ten Minutes. No stopping. Unedited.
I don’t like poetry, but I do like spacing out lines…

I bought a house
Because I was suddenly homeless
So it seemed like the smart thing to do.

It has a great backyard
With a broken fence
And the cutest rooms
With slanted floors
And unsafe windows

Many things were surprisingly easy to fix
And many things are still broken

I live in a broken house
But I am broken too
And it was there for me
When I needed a roof

I bought a house
With a driveway that’s all cracked
And a garage door that won’t close
Or once it’s closed, it won’t open

The cabinets are ugly
But basically new
The lighting is fancy
And hard to replace
But easier when
You actually buy the right bulb

I was mad at first
That I left my nice house
For this.
It’s old and unloved
And garbage was left behind
That the water isn’t soft
And makes my hair a mess

But now I see
That this broken house is just like me
I moved in and was broken
And some things in me are easy to fix
And some are now permanently slanted
The foundation has changed
But that doesn’t mean
I can’t hold myself up

They tore up the walls
And dug up the ground
To make the windows bigger
“The wound is the place
Where the light enters you.”

This place is not permanent
Not a forever home
Because there’s no forever
No certainty in life anymore

But it is a place that was there
When I needed it most

And how can I be mad at this
imperfect house
When it’s
just
like
me?