Dust
Dust is 50% dead skin or something.....
Time to rest your bones,
They're bound to get osteoporosis if you keep worrying like you do.
Take a seat on the floor,
Breath in the dust that you can't wait to clean.
It's mostly made of you anywho.
The dust that is....
Enjoy the company of a stranger,
Let them become your family.
Make new dust, made from the skin of a lover.
Let the years pile up in a house filled with two.
Your bones will grow strong and straight when you let someone else to prop you up.
Someone to hang in a picture frame on your wall.
So smile and take pictures,
make memories,
and love the dust you make.
You don't have to clean it all today.
I love this 💙 I think about the cleanliness of my house a lot. It is clean, but not as neat and perfectly tidy as my mom's house always was. My daughter's things are not purely confined to her room the way mine were. They are integrated into the living areas. It is her ongoing art projects or the remnants of a game. I love that mess. It tells her she is home and this home is hers. Not just her room but the whole house. I hope it sends the message that whatever she is doing she is free to do it with us, even if we're not all doing something together. I know she will go through the normal teenage closed door years but I always felt uncomfortable in the living room or whatever, like I was intruding on my parent's space. That's a specific level of comfort that I want her to have. I don't think this is quite what you were saying but it's what was brought up for me and it really added something special to an essay I've been stuck on for a while. Thank you!