You can’t make homes out of humans,
my life is not a fire to keep you warm,
my arms aren’t walls to protect you,
from your own internal storm.
My heart is not a light switch,
for you to turn on when you please,
and I can’t carry the weight of your regret,
Because I’m buckling at the knees.
My legs may not be a solid foundation,
But they aren’t yours on which to build,
And the holes in my heart can fit us both,
But you do not decide how they’re filled.
You can’t make homes out of humans,
And I won’t let you in just because you have knocked.
And if you keep using my heart as a doormat,
next time you’ll find the door locked.
– E.H. –
