Answer:
I am a house with two occupants sometimes one rarely three. Break the walls eat the boarders then throw away me.
I'm not really more than holes tied to more holes; I'm strong as good steel, though not as stiff as a pole.
You write on me and secrets I can keep in places never seen. I spin like a top. Though stiff as a board, I'm often described like a mop. What am I?
I shift around though always slowly. I never move more than a few inches at a time. A large movement by me can kill many people. I am huge yet unseen by humans.
I have four wings, but cannot fly, I never laugh and never cry; On the same spot Iām always found, toiling away with little sound. What am I?
What do you purposefully put lots of in and on your body, but run away from when you encounter it outside?