The old house
I like to point out
All the houses I’ve been in
If they’re still standing.
I like to remember
The smells
And feelings
From there
I like to pass by
To notice any changes
From where I came from
And where I’m going
I like to see
If the people still live there
Or if there’s new people there
And what they’re doing
And if they can sense
My good times
Or just the bad
Do they notice
The writing on the walls
The holes
And broken doors
Do they notice my leftover
Of pictures
Of me and you
I wonder what they’ve
Done with the things
I’ve left behind
Will they treasure it
Sell it
Or throw it away?
I like to pass
The house
Everyday
As a reminder
Of where I came from
And where I’m never
Going again
Ever.
The eggs shells
Have been stepped on
And broken
For they never could
Hold me.
The holes have been patched up
For they always reminded me
Of what I didn’t want.
The doors have been hinched
Once again
To remind me
I have a choice
To close it or open it.
The banister has been replaced
To keep me from falling
No longer will I sit on the top stair
Wishing it wasn’t there
The underlying problem
Pack your abuse
In a suitcase
And throw it in the river
Lay your eggshells
Elsewhere
For I defeated the house
Holes and broken mirrors
I’ve put the shards
Back together
Although we will never severe
I will always look
Every single time
As I pass
Onto my new life
Onto my house
Of comfort and joy..
That I have worked hard for
