Home Sweet Home

This would be the place

Where the phone rings

In the back room

No one answering

Because we’re too busy arguing

To take a moment to pick up

And tell them to call the hell back another time

This would be the place

Where the coffee mugs sit beside the sink

Leaving their yellow brown stains in the shape of distorted circles

On the counter top

That no one bothers to wipe clean

Because we’re too busy arguing

To take a moment

To tell the other to clean up this fucking mess

This would be the place

Where the shades are pulled during the day

Blocking out light

And the view that the neighbors have

Of us

In our plastic world

Behind the aluminum siding

And well-groomed grass

Through the curtains

That are never open

Because we’re too busy arguing

To take a moment

To brighten our dark hole

This would be the place

Where we remove our rehearsed faces

Behind the doors

Inside our gates

That we push ourselves into

This would be the place

Where the baby’s cry in the backroom

Goes unheard

Cause we’re too busy arguing

To tell it to shut the hell up and get it’s own bottle