Moncheriirabien

I should not have told you the things I did in the hushed midst of a grim midnight: but you were a house with a welcome sign out front: and I was a homeless seeking refuge: I made myself at home with how warm you were and how your voice would leak through the walls like teardrops shed by the ocean: I only spent a minute under your roof and it made me feel more loved in a matter of seconds then he ever made me feel in an amount of four months: I told you a thousand times that I was afraid of opening up, of letting myself chase after human beings that looked like homes: and now the one that I have found in you is drunk on gasoline and I'm so frightened of what I will have when the match strikes