In the depths of my mind,
dishes pile high on the sink
stacking on the countertops
and leaking on to the floor
with dried crusty food
now too hard to scrub down.
And the laundry basket has overflown
The basket no longer in view
Now, just a mountain of clothes
And the table has never been cleared
The bedsheets never changed
The ceilings joined by cobwebs
And the bathroom floor all grimy.

A house is like a machine
Requiring frequent oiling
Frequent repairing
Like a newborn baby
It can't help but wail through the night

And I've tended to it like a slave
Day in and day out
All the while growing the clutter in my own.

I can't seem to help it
It refuses to forget
You laid the foundation and built it brick by brick
Where love resided once, has been suffocated
By clothes and dishes and dust and dirt,
And you ask me where the love went
It's there somewhere
Perhaps in the laundry basket
If I can find the bottom
Or in the drain  
Or on the bathroom floor

I just can't seem to find it.