I’m from two residences.

I’m from a white picket fence, engulfed in flowers stretching the property.

From unconditional love that lights the room naturally.

I’m from a home where I am smothered in kisses and comforted with hugs

I’m from a front door with chipping paint.

From an unstable house, desperate to find spare change to pay tomorrow’s bills.

I’m from a house; where no one flinched as screaming increased, and conflict nawed at the smallest problems.

I was raised in a home,

yet I grew up knowing that below the surface the house echoed with emptiness.

I am from two residences, not clear where one stops and the other begins.