I CANNOT GO TO YOUR HOUSE/ Come to my House

I cannot go to your house
 Because I broke the rules
 I came ‘round and upset the
 Balance of it all
  
 The walls were newly painted
 No clutter was in view
 Unnecessary objects
 Were kept to just a few
  
 Some rooms remained quite empty
 Yet as clean as a new pin
 Even the garden shed was
 Immaculate within
  
 Upon the leather sofa
 A space was made for me
 But the moving of the cushion
 Broke the symmetry
  
 No noisy smoking teenagers
 Or Grandads in the bed
 No wailing hungry babies were
 Expecting to be fed
  
 No tears of grief or madness
 Nor angry banging doors
 No dribble, shit or vomit
 To stain the polished floors 
  
You told me that your house mate
 Was your lover in past times 
 But with ‘emotional maturity’
 It would be just fine
  
 It would cost too much, you said
 to go your separate ways
The price of flats in London 
makes it so hard these days

Then I came and spilt my tea
Upon your special rug
And to cap it all
I went and broke the mug 
  
I talked  and laughed too loudly
 I suppose I flirted too
 But you said it was over
 between herself and you?
  
And now I hear that I
Caused such dreadful stress
 That your home almost crumbled
 Beneath the awful mess
  
 And this poem sort of follows on...  
  
 COME TO MY HOUSE
 
 Come to my house, show me your flaws
 You smile at mine, and I’ll laugh at yours 
 Come bask in my chaos, be my welcome guest
 Share imperfection, here in my nest 
 
 Come in and admire the Glorious mess
 I’ll wear my best purple ill-fitting dress
 No ceremony, no need to impress
 Just roll around in my slovenliness
 
 Lie on the sofa, get comfy and rest
 Lay your bald head on my uneven breasts
 Show me your beer belly, look at my scars
 Then share messy kisses until we see stars 

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