a breakup leads to a broken home.
where the hurt resides and survives
not matter how hard you try to leave it behind.
I just find it difficult to say goodbye.
I know this is the time.
To switch off the lights in the house we once kept alive.
I was the only one still paying for the light.
while you were standing outside,
busy admiring the house on the other side.
No matter how hard you try,
to keep food in the fridge,
the house clean and warm,
the garden full of life.
You can’t stop the power going off,
the food reaching its best before date,
the house collecting cobwebs,
the garden slowing deteriorating.
You can’t stop the love from dying,
even if the love is still there, hiding, inside.
I want to destroy the house we built.
Rip it apart, brick by fucking brick.
Set it on fire and watch everything I love and hate burn.
But I decided.
To let the house stand until it falls.
To let the paint strip itself,
to let the cabinets get all dusty.
The house is too valuable to destroy.
I still want to walk around sometimes and reminisce about the good times.
But at the end of the day,
I’ll pick up my bag,
put on my hat,
walk away with my head held high, and a smile on my face.
Knowing that one day,
I’ll stop visiting
and never open that door again.