Monday, September 20, 2010

It's Not What it Looks Like

This is my house,
I don't always live here.
You understand.

This is my house,
it's not my home.
You understand.

She judged me,
when she asked me
"Don't judge."

I wouldn't judge
if I weren't so human.
It's just a house.

We all have houses,
not all a home.
You understand.

I like to stay home,
but
I get around.

Your vanity
was like
chocolate.

My pride
like alcohol.

Our greed - it was
like love.
You understand.

My love is like
a woman.

Yours
is like fiction.

Let's just
go home.

No comments:

Post a Comment