I Too, Was A Room

I was a room
painted tan, with a new ceiling fan
in the heart of a house
no one stayed long enough to touch.

Most of the time,
I kept myself company.

A friend or two
that still reminds me of yesterday
their touch felt like
I’ll come back,
but only when I can.

But you
you never came in.

You looked my direction
but never said a word.
You never gave me a reason
to lock my door.

After a while,
you became my every prayer.
You corrected everything
I thought I did right.
Meanwhile, before you,
all I did was exist.

Until you,
I discovered that I was missing something
but not in the way
of a missing wallet,
or the way some people lose keys.

Outside of all the time that I lost,
I needed a heart
inside these ribs of mine
to make this room a house,
and this house
a home.