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
cracked
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
hearts
You and I have
such pretty curb appeal
peel back the drywall
you’ll find two broken people
moldy wounds blackening
creeping
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