I am inside of the house.
I take a look around, it's dim, easy on my eyes, as if it doesn't want to hurt me.
The carpet is comfortable, it twitches under my feet, like fur.
The pipes rumble through the walls,
Its vocal cords vibrating through the flesh of its throat.
I run my fingers on the wall, it's full of texture, as if painted over repeatedly.
How many brush strokes were taken to make you this beautiful?
How many finger prints have left a stain on your pure, virgin skin?
How many times have you wished to reach out and hold those hands?
To hug the people in the room, your room
To swallow them whole in your warmth, together.
Your walls and door knobs flutter under my grasp, why are you flinching, darling?
I can feel your heart beating, your skin is cold, my love, I wish I could warm you with myself.
I ache as you ache, we're both hungry,
I trail my hands down the cords and wires, they pulse with life like veins.
They're warm, pumping with your blood.
You've gotten too hungry, you loved me too much.
It's okay, I forgive you.