I come from...

Here is the piece I wrote in English:

I come from two houses - one with a mother and one with a father.
One with a dormant artist and one with a suit-type.
One with a sister and one with a wicked witch of the west.
One with Christmas Day and one with Christmas Eve.
One with my own room and one with a shared bed.
One with green towels and one with beige towels.
One with a gold and black lounge room and one with an apricot couch.
One with two cats and one with no company.
One with late night laughs and one with late night tv.
One with full priced clothes and one with discount meals.
One with sleep-ins on Sundays and one with yoga on Saturdays.
One with a wardrobe and one with an overnight bag.
One with lazy Saturdays and one with day trip Sundays.
One with pate for lunch and one with a barbeque down at the park.
One with freedom to use the phone and one with constant permission.
One in the suburbs and one an hour away.
One for the week and one for once a month.
One with the real me and one with the good me.
One with a Hindu goddess on the wall and one with a painting of a rose.
One with a new car and one with fluffy wool seat covers.
One with a bathroom draw and one with a toiletry bag.
One with an electric blanket and one with slab heating.
One with netball and one with education related discussions.
One with friends and one with none.
One with warmth and one with falsities.
One with my mum and one with my dad.