The home in my bones.

Each wants to give me something, and each wants to take. One of you has been there years, while the other a mere few months. But in those months, Steph, you’ve struck a nerve in me. You left echos in my halls and run your fingertips over every brick that I am built up of. You have lay carpets and hung lights, and you have made my misery your home.
While you, Lauren. You’ve been home here for years. You’ve mapped each corridor, each stair case, each room and each door. You’ve met the ghosts that roam around, you’ve met the monsters under each bed and in each cupboard. You’ve boarded up each broken window.
You cannot both live here. The other complains to much, and either way around. You have not yet crossed paths, but you have seen the others footprints and seen each others shadows.
You have both impacted my life, and my friends would think it crazy that I find it hard to choose. The choice is obvious right? She’s been here years. But it’s not obvious. She smells so familiar that she is becoming a part of the furniture. The other, she lit all the old fires and started warming me from the inside out. She read books to me without knowing if I was even listening. She read each word I wrote and cherished it, as if I were her favourite author, and I was her favourite book.
Lauren, you sang me to sleep when my floorboards were creaking and the doors were rattling. You comforted me through each storm and protected me from each break in.
You both scream my name at night, you both haunt my dreams.
I do not know which of you I love the most, and I do not know which path to choose.
I know I must, but I already have too many ghosts roaming around, in the home I made out of matchsticks, the home I built for you both,
in my bones.

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