There's No Place Like Home

Sometimes, Home will break your heart into the same rigid pieces they will use to cut through the thick skin you inherited.


These sometimes that morph into most times are responsible for the dissolution of your soul.
These sometimes that morph into always are responsible for the misplacement of your reliance.


When being coated in the kind of brown that hasn’t been dipped in gold becomes a metaphysical dilemma you can not conquer,
Something becomes necessary about living in his bones,
finding solace in his blood, moisturizing your skin with his ego.


You should've known there would be a struggle,
a civil war between the inhabitants of his former sins and you.
There is no room behind the ribs of a man who's unneeded raid of bodies just like yours becomes precedent to your meager happiness.


It should have been clear,
You can not take baths in his manipulation then sit down for breakfast with his discretions.
False bonds between his heart and your need for shelter will create flames scorching enough to consume you.


Did you forget your mistakes are human beings?
Living shrines as to why you can't leave money out around the men you sleep with.
Monuments for your compliance to lay in beds that belong to him but house her bodily fluids.


You will find transgression in the abandonment of your God in seek of asylum in his insecurities. Jannah does not belong to him nor does the assembly of your spirit.


No one has ever filled themselves up with you. He has never spooned you sugar with his duplicity or wrote love letters in your skin. You have never filled his rims or even rested in his walls.

You can not make homes out of human beings. Didn't anybody ever tell you that?

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