no vacancy.

I used to think that love ment vacancy.

so i carved out my body,

left me hollow and empty.

Set up a bed in my rib cage,

auctioned off my teeth to 

buy a new rug,

shed my skin and made it a coat,

hung it on the dresser carved

from my bones,

and waitied for you.

But I know now that love isn't an empty room,

waiting for a lonely travler to take shelter.

My love is whole for I am whole.

And while I no longer carve out my insides,

I still expect to fix some of these leaky pipes,

and to replace creaking floorboards.

For love is a mutual growth. 

A symbiotic relationship where

the tar in hearts are replaced with seeds,

and flowers poke from every chamber.