Home is where the heart is.

All this blood isn't ours but we keep it just the same.
These splintered bones in the basement.
The finger nails in the banister.
Our hearts only beat when we're beating yours.

All those cars out back aren't ours, they're all of yours.
But we doubt there's any amusement to be had in their games any more
Pedals require feet, after all.

All the time spent here in our woods.
We don't like playing our games alone.
And our clever invitations are so insisting.

The real world would ask why.
All the regular people want their answers.
Explain it all
All these games we play.
All the hospitality we offer.
All the copper stench and rust colored stains.
All these advantages we allow you to take.
Perhaps you'd be so kind to explain it to us as well?

Welcome home.
Be so kind as to be more entertaining then the rest of the guests.
They were fun for a time, but a person only volunteers so much fun.

So welcome home Mint and Paul.
We're so excited to have you here.
It's where your hearts are kept.




***part 2 of 10***
***very rough draft***

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