I hate cleaning the house.

Truly despise it.

People–concerned family members typically– will say

“Doesn’t feel better?”

And the answer is “No.”

 

It feels empty. 

It feels like it belongs to someone else.  

It isn’t mine.

 

Although, I’m not embarrassed when someone comes to the door,

I get a gold star from my therapist,

I don’t get evicted from my apartment,

And it doesn’t make my mother cry.

 

So there’s that.