Her house was always cold

She would shiver as she tiptoed

Across the floor at night,

Fearing the sound of footsteps.

His house was always warm

He would laugh as his brother

Made a joke and danced like a fool;

Their joy often woke their parents.

She spent her evenings hiding, alone,

In her room doing homework,

Purposefully marking a few wrong.

Too many A’s equals too much attention.

He spent his evenings surrounded

By family at the dinner table.

His mom served second helpings

And smiled when they scraped their plates.

She walked the long route to school

To avoid the ones who whispered,

Mocking her thrift store coat

And the silence stitched into her sleeves.

He drove a car his dad bought him

When he turned sixteen last month.

His friends asked for rides.

Girls smiled when they saw him coming.

They met in the hallway at school

When she dropped her books.

He didn’t laugh like the others.

She ran before he could say a word.

After school, she quickly walked home

While he followed two paces behind

Carrying her books. Neither said

Anything. Their silence was loud enough.

Every day after that, he walked her

To and from school, always steps behind.

He kept his distance as best he could.

But he couldn’t bear to witness her pain.

It was four months later when she

Let him drive her home for the first time.

His encouraging eyes held no pity,

And his hands were never harmful.

And when she visited his home for

The first time, she had tears in her eyes.

Shame kept her from allowing him to see

The violent ghosts of her own house.

And when she left her house behind,

She knew it was just the address she lost.

Because a home is safe, warm, and kind.

And in him, she had found one.