I love the way you can make me feel
Like i am something worth keeping
When I have become so convinced
That i am meant to be thrown away.
You hold me in your giant hands
And I am small
So small i barely fill the space
And it should be easy for you to squeeze--
Crush me, ruin me, break me
It should be easy
But you don't.
Instead your hand becomes home.
Some people find comfort in a house,
A town, a place.
But i find it in you.
The thing about having a home is,
Nowhere else feels quite right.
No one else's hand will ever really be yours.
But i will close my eyes
And pretend.
No building could ever make me feel the warmth you do.
But i will imagine instead of cold concrete and drywall
Your touch surrounds me.
But of course it won't be the same
So i fear the day when you
Cannot be my home anymore,
But someone else's instead.
