Strangers are walking
All over the space
That I so lovingly built
Inch by loving inch
Minutes, hours and days of dreams
And soap water and scrubbing
And cleaning, folding and smoothing
And filling with love and colour
I’m standing on the outside,
Clutching a bittersweet memory
While inside, the revelers debate the idea of home
A home I created that has no room for me anymore
What would the heartless know about home?
But perhaps they do.
It takes one to talk about it.
And another completely, to build what I did
A home for the heartless.