Home

Our love was turpentine.
It stripped us of colour and love
Until only the truth and pain remained.
How to heal the banished walls of home
When home is no longer You and I
And We, and UsÂ
As the paint starts to peel
And the wood begins to rot.
Our love was a bare wall.
The pigments once bursting love
Banished us to this cold room that
Screams its blank and empty promise.Â
You still linger like dust in the airÂ
Settling back into my very bonesÂ
As I mourn the remnants of your scent
Thats not yet left my skin.
Our love was hidden rooms.Â
Door upon door left unopened
While you concealed the keys
And swore you werenât constricted.Â
Lost in what was once our garden,
Now rotten and bare as the winterÂ
Of our love left nothing but corpses
And the coldness of bitter goodbyes.
Our love is now an attic.
Lost and rarely seen.
It calls to me in sleepless nights
When I think of what had once been.
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Comments
Yes, it was a well crafted piece using the analogy of the home. An empty home with furnishing and little else. So sad. Great write!
Thank you so much for readingÂ