This is the place where 

shuddering shoulders wear a vacancy sign

but the reception desk is empty.

This is my house 

and us seven found a home

when we wished on every star to be sheltered.

This is the place where

I rest on the edge of my bed

to give Carly more space & every few minutes she shakes her head & Emma sits on the floor.

And we drink our tea until only the leaves are left in the mug,

sticking to the bottom to say 

"Everything will be okay."

but in this moment of timelessness, we can't afford to be self righteous.

I saw him this morning

I saw him this morning

I saw him this morning

and I refuse to be mourning:

The fire burns no more.

I, we, are trapped in this tunnel, there's a light at the end

but the train tracks have been hemmed.

My teeth are begging to be heard

"How can heaven be real when we have to dream to see you?"

but every time the words get caught in my throat.

This is the place where there's a home

beneath Stacy's arms

& Carly's soft in-and-out breaths swirl with Emma's gruff sighs

like cream into coffee.

And my baby brother teaches Mitch to dance

& the first thing Katy asks is whether I have a cat, but not because she's allergic,

"I just really like cats."

& Katherine comes in late because she was being interviewed

by reporters who got his age wrong.

This is the place where we won't mind

when Mitch has to step out to answer a reporter's call,

It isn't the first of the night.

This is the place where blue stars shine

bright enough to provide light even with faces hidden

in Stacy's sweater

& I refuse to use past-tense.

This is the place where it has been a month

and I haven't swallowed it-

the meat doesn't taste the same.

This is the place where I am

chronically late

because I-435 will never scab.

This is the place where we won't let eachother leave 

without a 

"Drive safe."