On the Verge of Destruction

If there was something
you wanted to tell me,
you had best say it now.
For as I speak,
my floor boards creak
as those mother fuckers pull
my cabinets from my walls.
I know my days are numbered.
I can feel my expiration wafting
down my halls of lonely rooms.

I’ve always been a sanctuary.
Love was made and broken,
and made again within me.
Babies have kept me awake at night,
screaming and nursing from their Momma…
your Momma…the lady that cries so much.
Today, she touched my peeling paint
and sobbed, slumped to my floor
and told me she was sorry
to see me go.
I don’t want to go.

If there is something you
would like to tell me,
you had best say it now.
I love my family, my people.
Even when the young ones
wiped me with lipstick
and boogers,
I always kept them warm.

When the teenagers drank
with the parents away,
I was a safe haven from harm.
Beer cans and clutter,
the boys pissing on my lawn,
and I still loved you folks.
All of the bitter sibling battles,
heads smashed through my walls
to be patched by your Dad…
I am so so very sad to see my family go…

Now, time is ever present
as I watch the bulldozers
creep closer to wrecking my
shingles and porches.
Closer to destroying my memories.
I will be a rubbled pile of splinters and shite
soon enough.

So if there is something you would like to say,
you had better speak up
Before I am nothing but dust
kicked up, and blown away.


** Inspired by the Wicked Writing Prompt - From the Perspective of a house.**