My shower won't stop dripping
My bed tips to the left and the bed springs stab me while I sleep
My closet growls at me when I open it like an unfed dog in the shelter
You said you'd fix this all for me, I said no, and no, and no - it's okay.
If you fix the shower you might want to fix the emotions that leak out of me in the middle of the night
When you remove the bed you might want to remove the memories of the man that ruined me for you
I growl like the closet door when I open open myself up, never willing to show you my skeletons dangling from their hangers
If my home isn't good enough for you, maybe I'm not either.