Brick and Mortar

I don't walk into my home and feel a sense of history. I'm not able to sense the love that was there before. I don't like knowing people lived in it. I don't like knowing others were there, in my house. I don't like the idea that they might know I'm in theirs. I open the front door and walk into a hotel. The bed is made and the towels are clean. But there isayer after layer of Other on everything.

I want to build something from the ground up. I want a lot, I want dirt, I want brick and mortar. I'd like to know that what's mine is actually mine, what I provide is actually my family's for the taking, the having, the loving. I don't want your memories, I don't want your past. And you don't deserve my future.