Des Killian

One bag or two 
how much do I leave 
with you 
so many thoughts like this one 
strewn around my mind 
dirty balled-up anger 
and linen-scented love 
piled up in the corners 
Watch your step 
the floorboards are 
worn thin 
Our foundation is 
our shingles too loose 
to weather this storm 
Hurt pours in 
feelings flood our throats 
I expected you to be 
my shelter, my safety 
instead accusations echo 
through the drafty walls 
doubt drips down 
and tears fall across 
the window pane 
confrontation clouds 
my judgment 
I should know better 
than to make a home 
out of other people’s 

You and I have 
such pretty curb appeal 
peel back the drywall 
you’ll find two broken people 
moldy wounds blackening 
from the inside out 
skeletons rattle every closet door 
ghosts from the past 
haunt our hallways 
monstrous eyes peer in 
green orbs awaiting our 
next move 
Can we escape this 
condemned reality 
is it too late to start anew 
the cost of repairs 
is becoming too high 
I’d take a loan out on 
forgiveness if 
only to build a future with you