V.

give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses

bring me your problems, your complaints, your deep sighs

lay your head on my chest and let me coddle you

leave with me: your mommy issues, your fear of never being a real man,

and all your insecurities

I am your rehab

your escape from your innermost demons

i am your protection, your therapist, your medication, your emotional support animal

and everyday I will tell you in most gentle voice

“it’s all going to be okay”

as a vapid hole grows in my chest

from taking in all your “bad”

you leave me with everything and nothing at all

I am your rehab

some day you will be discharged

and you’ll never pay your outstanding bill

you won’t reciprocate the home I housed you in

as my walls crack, my foundation shakes, and my insides flood