What if I say that
I don't feel home
in my own home.
The walls scream
the memories with the dead.
Those photographs
stare at me while I am sleeping
and those eyes are printed
in my heart from a long time.
Every corner,
every side,
even the little crevices
make me uncomfortable
because memories ache
when you know that they can
not be lived again with the same one.
My second home though,
I feel I am home in her arms,
I feel a relief in that soothing voice,
I feel a home away from home
in you.
My love,
you are my home.
Come make my house,
a home with your love
like you made my heart,
a home for our LOVE.

- Mr. Bond√√