on being friends and coming home

i've got so much meanness
and selfishness
and jealousy
it's crowding the air out of my lungs
and the space in my joints
that allows me to bend and stretch
i can't breathe

but to be true
i've got to let go
and realize that i'm okay

it's impossible to link souls
when i've left no space
and i can't let you overtake me either
because i'm still a home
i am a home
a place to sit and stay a while
the door is open to speak
but please
like in any good home
do not shout too much
leave your shoes at the door
i understand weariness
because that's the plague that makes me want to
shut up tight
and try to keep this all to myself

but it's a treasure to let you in
oh weary wanderer
to see what you see
the sights of another world
colors i don't understand
please forgive me
when i forget to pull out my best china
i can't reach it on the top shelf
but i'm getting there