The sun glares through the cracks
In the walls, and awakens me-
Of gaps here, there is no lack;
And after a few hours sleep
The chill winds stealthy creep
Through the same cracks; that I keep
Stuffing with trash and cloth,
Though nothing is ever enough
My breath fogs and exits too,
As if from a million flues
It's impossible to keep warm
And staying dry too, is an art
I know that you see no harm
In keeping me here, this way
But I feel I'm beginning to rust
While living from you, apart:
Someday, I'll want more than just
Squatter's rights, to your heart.
and you deserve it all