Wednesday, October 14, 2009

House for Sale, Latest Poem

Through every incident that threatened to ravish the rooftop of our relationship
I chose to stay at home
Might have opted to take a breather out on our back porch
But not once did I step out of what we took time to build
Knowing that if no one was there to defend our fortress
It may not still be standing when the wind no longer blew

Call me Southern
Cause I know the kitchen only gets hot when somethings cooking
And I thought we were working up a masterpiece
But you
Have this tendency of speaking with the neighbors

See, when our house don't quite feel like home
You do our laundry elsewhere
And now they've crept their way into our bedroom
Patched pieces of themselves in holes they noticed in our sheets
So I can't make love to you like I used to
Cause remnants of them have been revealed in places they should not be

I have not mastered every house chore
But in the same manner they aren't accountable for ironing out the creases in our sheets
I'd never consciously give the neighbors a chance to try on my shoes
So, I don't ask for advice on how to walk in them

Yet for some reason
They're thinking that my pumps might fit their mold

And now their shameless sense of entitlement
Has found its way inside our living room
They've gotten comfortable
Began posing for pictures
As if the memory foam in our mattress doesn't only have indentations created strictly by the two of us
Is there something you'd like to tell me, lover?

Or should I just address this to
The neighbors?
The same ones who were once only bold enough to peek in through the blinds
Have now claimed a chair at our dinner table
So I cant even say my prayers for our grace without showing hints of resentment
Don't get it twisted

Not everyone wants to make it inside our bedroom
Some just want to be in earshot so they can hear how it's affected
But unlike you
I've made it clear that I don't take kindly to company
Last I checked, this was my house

See, it's one thing to condemn me amongst others when I'm not present
Knowing I seldom show up at town meetings to defend myself
But my front door wasn't made for revolving
Homes and hearts come with keys for a reason
And I don't provide either as temporary resting places

When you say build
I think brick
Not legos
Are for kids
As are tricks
And this relationship
Has been equipped with too many of them
I know

It was once hard to tell the difference between Motel 6 and our home
But when I put down the welcome mat
Not just left the light on for you
Something should have shifted
I know a for sale sign when I see one
Know all the tell tale signs of a depreciating building

Don't be surprised to learn that I already had my bags packed
I just don't see the point in lingering any longer
When it is you who now makes me feel like a guest
In the very space I thought was a place I could call my own
Allow the strength you found in the neighbors
To now make you feel at home

Heavy Exhale,


  1. myyyyyyyyyyyy goooooooooooooooodness. i was holding my breath with you, dear. you went there. you took is all the way. this was an amaaaazing extended metaphor. very well done, well kept...and you swept that fool under the rug...better yet, you fanned 'em out the window.

    i thoroughly enjoyed everything about it, the strength of it, all the interesting undertones.

    thanks so much for sharing,