The Boy Made of Guitar Strings:

I am staring at a boy 

He does not feel like home 
But I wish he did so bad 

Because I can feel him building a home inside me, 
settling in and redecorating 

but I can't stop thinking
about the sun on my face
under the willow tree 
and the boy with the beautiful smile 
telling me all his secrets 

I am my home 
I just need a house