Questions

What makes a house a home? 

Maybe it's the oil drip stain at the driveway that never washes away 

the front door 

the metal rusting gate 

the doorbell that doesn't work 

Past the coat rack 

and the infrared glow of the lizard tanks  

the bearded dragon I’ve had since the 6th grade  

the chipped tile in the kitchen floor

the groan of the old water heater 

with the pilot light that keeps going out 

What constitutes ownership? 

Spending most of your time in the arsenic green bedroom 

that was your great grandfather's room 

long before it was yours 

his guitar still reverberating through the walls after all those years 

On the side of the house  

the jasmine you planted 

after your father uprooted the roses grown by your great grandmother

What makes land property? 

In the backyard 

the tree houses your dad built with no permit 

resting strong in the arms of pine trees 

that dropped pinecones 

that you and him collected for arts and crafts

Can a physical space be more than just a space? 

In the other bedrooms you find 

gossip and magazines shared between sisters 

Bunk beds in shared rooms 

turned single twins 

turned full size mattress, one upstairs, one downstairs 

Drywall peeking through the paint 

smoke damage 

that casts a permanent shadow the wall 

from burning incense on the ancestor altar 

Will they hear our lives echoing in the floorboards?

Deep within the floorboards 

you find your parents stepping inside their home with you as a newborn from the hospital 

the site of your first steps 

the last step of the stairs where you fell and busted your knee once you were old enough to run

You find baby teeth 

a mouth full of questions 

Your fifteen year old self with fifteen cavities 

You find wisdom teeth, all four impacted 

you are packing your things 

in and and out 

only come around if you have to 

you were old enough to run 

so you left 

What do we really own?

You went back 

and you found something new 

Rent overdue

yellow eviction notices 

the money your father buried for an emergency 

makes its appearance on your kitchen table 

You find a predatory housing market 

threatening to tear apart your home  

Your family on the verge of shatter, break, fragment 

like the cracks in the concrete 

or the splinters in the door frame 

because this is still the house that your family comes to 

for kickbacks, Sunday dinners, sports games, holidays

You see  

home is the first place 

you learn to both run from and run to 

Home might be bittersweet 

but it sure does kicks your teeth in 

to see your life reduced to a stack of boxes

become cardboard coffin of childhood memories

liquidate your assists 

the grand sum 

of the air that you breathe 

and the skin on your back  

What makes a house a home? 

What constitutes ownership? 

Who will sleep in my room next? 

Will they water the plants or uproot them from the ground? 

Are we being uprooted too? 

What makes land property? 

Can a physical space be more than just a space? 

Will the next people that move in hear the stories in the wall? 

Will they hear our lives echoing in the floorboards?

What do we really own?

I float out the door 

I don’t get any answers