Do they see my home
When they drive by
Is it a mirage
A falsified lie
Or an eyesore
To the ones outside?
It’s dilapidated
Brick and metal
It’s complicated
But we find a way
To make it work
While it falls apart.
It has one hundred bathrooms
With two thousand
Roommates inside
With a lot of food
Labeled “DON’T CONSUME”
On the box’s side.
Do they wonder who
Lives in this place?
Or do I fade away
Not even a trace
Of what I’ve become
Only what I was?
I made many mistakes
And I deserve
To be right here
But after eight years
I’m not my mistakes.
Will they hear me?
Will they see me
When I leave my home
Or just a dark smudge
As I walk by?
It frightens me
To think I’m alone.
I’m not what I was
And this place reflects
The old me inside
I was broken, but now
I want to show them
Who lives in this home.