When my Home Speaks...

As I stand still and quiet, watching you breathe,

I hold the echoes of your laughter, your sighs beneath.

You ask what I think—of you, of us—

My dear, you are the reason I exist, thus.

When you wander restless from corner to chair,

I cradle your silence, I soften your despair.

You say I put up with your boredom, your moods—

I see them as rhythms, your own soulful truths.

Every chip in my paint, every creak in my frame,

Is marked by your presence, not worn out in shame.

You’ve given me purpose, filled me with grace,

With every soft glance and each lived-in trace.

You call me shelter, but I call you spark,

The warmth in my wood, the light in my dark.

You dance through my rooms like sunlight in folds,

I hold you in quiet when the evening grows cold.

Where you unravel, I gather you close,

In your stillness, I bloom like a hidden rose.

You lean on my walls when the world feels too loud,

I stand tall beside you, quiet and proud.

You and I—imperfect, complete,

You bring the soul, I bring the seat.

When you’re worn thin, I offer retreat,

And when I seem empty, your presence repeats.

We complement like moon and tide,

You carry the storms, I hold you inside.

Not just your shelter, I am your skin,

A witness to all that pulses within.

I hear your heart thanking me

But my love, I want to thank you for making me your home.

I am home because of you!