What I Call Home

I live in a house where red means cold and blue means hot
Because nothing makes sense the initial way you'd think
You see
There's technically not such a thing as cold
Only less heat
And blue is one of the hottest color flames
And red is one of the less hot flames
So blue is hot
And red is... less hot

I live in a house where my door is backwards
The dead bolt is under the door knob
I feel like the peep hole should be on the bottom but it's not, however it is hard to see through
Like I'm looking in it backwards
Like you could see in
But I can't get out
And yes, I meant I can't get out, not that I can't see out

I can see fine
but I'm trapped in this backwards house of twisted language
We say "I love you" a lot
But what we mean is "I don't want you to die because I'm used to you"
But in this house the color of this love is midnight blue

Doesn't make sense right? Isn't love supposed to be red or pink? So light fluffy color that makes you smile?
Well, this house doesn't make sense.
Colors have emotions tied to them
Typically, blue is sad, red is mad, pink is in love, and green might be happy.
But midnight blue is a sorrowful color of love
Its a faded sky, a setting sun, twinkling stars.
Sounds lovely and all but really...
Twinkling stars are dying stars just like the love
Well, in this place at least.

I live in a house where their smiles mean my frown
"Turn that frown upside down" and so I do
Because they're deaf when I comes to me, and I'd rather not beg for love I'm not going to get because it's dead
I live in a house where my smiles mean forced and fake and their frowns mean earthquake

The floors rumble and the walls fall
Tables break
Fridge swings open, pour out all my unsaid words and they cry more
Maybe they're finally listening?
A vase shatters and so does my face
A hopeful gleam being broken because they just frown more and ignore the spilled milk
No use in crying over it, and they smile again
Fridge shuts, floors still, smiles in place
I guess I should learn to keep my mouth shut

I live in a house were I tape the fridge shut
Where I glue the vase, cracks forming odd shapes into my wrists
Where I clean the milk they spilled
I live in a house I cannot understand
But where ive learned it better to just shut up and obey
But the house gets so lonely and it weeps in the wind and when it rains the weak house wishes to comfortably collapse in the downpour it's used to

I live in a house some people offer to fix, investing their hugs in the form of nails and I refuse it being fixed
At every offer the house gets, the windows squeal and the and the door swings open and it smiles at the sun
But then remembers them, and the deadbolt locks
Blinds go down, curtains tattered in front
Milk on the floor
The vase falls out of my hand and my blood reminds me
No
No nails, no fixing, no hugs
It won't help
It'll cause an earthquake
Shut up and obey
"Thanks for the offer, but the house is fine"