My Two Little Wrecking Balls Poem by Starfish ZA

I used to have a couch,
I used to have a bed,
I used to sleep in comfort
with a pillow for my head.

Now I balance on the edge
while you stretch from side to side,
two furry little dictators
with absolutely no divide.

You follow me to the kitchen,
you follow me down the hall,
I haven't been alone in years—
not even in the bathroom stall.

And those eyes...
oh, those innocent eyes,
like you've never done a thing,
while the cushion lies in pieces
and you're chewing on the string.

Oh, my two little wrecking balls,
my snoring lumps of love,
sent here to test my patience
by the universe above.
You steal my space,
you steal my food,
you steal my favourite chair—
but somehow when I need you most,
you're always, always there.

One of you hears a packet
from three rooms far away,
the other sleeps through thunder
but hears cheese from yesterday.

You bark at leaves and shadows,
you protect me from the broom,
then run away in terror
when the vacuum enters the room.

You wrestle like wild animals,
then curl up nose to nose,
and somehow take up half the house
with four enormous toes.

There's drool upon my trousers,
there's hair on everything,
and every time I clean the floor
you drag more garden in.

Oh, my two little wrecking balls,
my snoring lumps of love,
sent here to test my patience
by the universe above.
You steal my space,
you steal my food,
you steal my favourite chair—
but somehow when I need you most,
you're always, always there.

And yes, you drive me crazy.
You have selective ears.
You suddenly forget your names
when "bath time" disappears.

You think the whole world loves you,
and mostly you are right,
because even when you're naughty
I still kiss you every night.

There's something in the way you know
when life has been too much,
no questions, no explaining,
just a head against my touch.

No speeches.
No solutions.
No need to understand.

Just two warm bodies leaning close,
and somehow I can stand.

So keep the couch,
take the blanket,
leave me twenty centimetres wide.
I'll complain about the snoring
while I pull you closer to my side.

Because one day
this house will be too quiet,
and I know what that will mean.

No thundering feet at midnight,
no faces in between.

So for now,
make all the mess you want,
steal every bit of space.

I'll take the hair,
the drool,
the chaos—

just don't ever lose
that face.

Oh, my two little wrecking balls,
my ridiculous little crew,
I thought I was the one who saved you—
but maybe you saved me too.

You're trouble,
you're laughter,
you're madness in disguise.

And I would choose you both again—

every single time.