Identity House

I built myself a home in a label I felt safe in. With plenty of land to execute my design, my home was just what I imagined while drawing up the blueprints. For a while it was just what I needed. A bathroom with vintage tile and an open concept living room. Gratitude looks good on me. Dreams do come true and for a moment it was hard to believe that I wasn’t the luckiest girl alive. But I kept growing. My body filled the dining room and crept into the kitchen. It stretched purple lines across my skin and into the living room. It blocked the TV while my streaked skin kept growing over the remote until it was tattooed between my chest. My heart was pounding, pressing at the “OK” button over and over again. My body drew cracks in the walls and popped the doors off of their hinges. I feel a hinge wedged deep in my belly button. But I am safe and I am home and the rain can’t get me. I like my new tattoo and that I can’t see the TV, I had too much screen time anyway. But my skin doubled over onto itself and now I’m in every room of the house at once. The cobwebs on the ceiling tickle my nose and the shingles won’t hold up much longer. I want to stay inside. It wasn’t until my veins started bulging and my toenails grew over and poked at the bottoms of my feet, that I realized that my body was turning on itself. I am growing and I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe, I can’t fill up my lungs, I’m stuck and I don’t think I can move my fingers, my fingers are purple and bulging, I’m sweating, it’s dripping, it’s dripping down my legs, my legs are tingling, they’ve been asleep for weeks, I haven’t moved in months, I need to get out, I need to get out.

And the cracks drew thicker and the walls agreed. The shingles hit the floor like piano keys and the ripping of my clothes felt like a relief. Wooden shards surrounded me. My splintered skin felt sore and bare, but the breeze against my body reminded me of the thrill of being exposed to a life that couldn’t fit in even an open concept living room. My vintage tiles glistened in the sun. I picked up my remaining beloved trinkets and grazed my fingers over their edges. My lungs felt full again.

I gazed at the patch of empty land I sat naked on. This would be a good spot for a house.