I tried to pray to god on an inflatable mattress
It was my mother’s first apartment somewhere in the city
And I thought to myself
There would be nothing that could turn off the lights
We played with sidewalk chalk and drew pictures of animals
Adorned the hardwood floor with blue and green army men
The Christmas tree the first year
We still laugh about how sad that thing was
Neighbors’ voices bled through the walls
I didn’t hear a goddamn thing
One of her places downtown, I was certain was heaven
Cuz there was a backyard and we could all go walk to the movies
I drove by recently, could not believe
The place that I thought was a home then
You were so strong for inventing a life for three children
Sometimes making it up just a bit as we went along
And we evolved, traveled like the wind
And each year was just a little different
I can still hear the sound of the ice cream truck in New York
That guy was busted for selling weed to the parents
And the trash bags, on the side streets
We were just so sure that place was haunted
A ladybug crawled up the beams on the porch in New Hampshire
I stared at it crawl as I leaned back and remembered what you said
“You get what you give and I hope that you know that a house and a home aren’t the same thing”
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