Body’s Home

they say its normal for a teenage girl to feel not at home in her body

it’s a great change in scenery

you just have to break it in, adjust to it

 

i’m not supposed to want to place a welcome mat in front of my feet

or hang up inspirational posters inside my ribs

 

it’s normal to lock the doors three times before bed

and still feel like it’s wide open

it’s normal to fear a robbery despite having no belongings

because it’s never been home enough to furnish

it’s normal for trespassers to come in without asking

that’s the difference between a trespasser and a guest

 

i’ve always taken care of my home

but most days i don’t live it

i pay water and electricity

but i don’t use it

 

that doesn’t mean it’s never been used though

 

my house has been lived in

squatters have made their way in and out

leaving piles of trash large enough to be furniture

and i’ve tried to sit on that left behind garbage couch

grab a blanket and turn on the tv

get cozy in my house

 

but my house don’t feel like home

 

i bought it

but i was evicted before i got the chance to ever feel like it was a place i could live

 

my house provides shelter

it’s a necessity

just a thing i need in order to survive

it doesn’t need to feel comfortable

i just need a roof over my head

a protection for now

 

but does it protect me if i don’t feel safe?

cause i’ve spent all that i have on security

i placed bouncers at my front door to keep people out

i’ve taught them to push and push

but i still feel heavy breaths on the back of my neck

foreign arms around my waist

security cameras can’t catch that

 

maybe it’s because i recognize intrusion like the back of my hand

like broken doors feel like sweaty palms pressing on my shoulders

maybe it’s because i don’t know what’s it's like to be in a room shut

without the feeling of my arms being held down

maybe it’s because the last time i could run freely up and down the stairs i was six years old

i was still comfortable enough to lay my barbie dolls out on my carpet

 

it’s been over a decade since they were stolen from me

and it’s been that long since i could remember it

i’m remembering why my body doesn’t feel like home

why it always felt like someone was pounding on my front door when all they said was hello

why i left scars on my front porch

i defaced my own property because someone else started it before me

i decided the moment my home was taken from me that nobody else deserved to live in it

not even myself

 

i decided that it’s walls were too worn down to be painted over

that it’s windows were far too shattered to close for anyone else

so i didn’t put it up for sale

instead i left it behind

 

and for the first time in years i’m revisiting my abandoned home

my six year old body

i didn’t realize that it had been flooded with the memories i chose to leave behind

but whether i like it or not my brains decided it’s time to walk back inside my skull

i’ve been told to clean out the rooms, work on remodeling

learn to love my home

but this house has never felt like home

and i’m not sure it ever will

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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