for 18 years
the floor of my home
has fitted my footprints
the buzz of the fridge a perfect third
above the buzz of my head
i have moulded into my house
part of the furniture
and it smells like a safe pair of hands
ready to catch me each evening
tomorrow, i will live somewhere else
i don't know if i will bend into its shape
i don't know if the stairs will creak
in particular places
i won;t know if there's a loose tile in the hallway
i am ready, and i am excited to find out
but i am also sad
to be leaving the place that has seen me
break, grow, mend, on repeat
taught me to walk, cook, clean, hurt, heal, smile
i will live many places in my life
but none will feel to me quite like this one does
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