The rotting walls,
The warped floors,
The cracked wood that makes up all of the doors.

Do you remember when this place used to be so bright?
When we still ate dinner at the table most nights?

Blanket forts and puzzle glue,
I always said my best friend was you.
I was your checker queen,
You were my everything.

We took rides to the liquor store,
The smell now will always remind me
Of my childhood.
These types of field trips never ended the way I wished they would,
With your nose pressed against a cut straw in your friends ***** apartment,
Maybe you hoped that I would never remember it.

I used to pray to a God I was too young to believe in that you wouldn't crash the car when you were high on oxy.

Whispering to myself
"Oh god, please."

You would get so close to the cars on the side of the road and I would just keep praying that we would make it home.

Then, after mom died i picked up your bad habits.
I would drink and drive in hopes that I would die.

Id get to close to the cars on the side of the road while praying to a God I still don't believe in that I wouldn't make it home.

But I did.
Every time.

To the rotting walls,
The warped floors,
The cracked wood that makes up all of the doors.

Why is it so hard to remember when this place used to be bright?
I cant even imagine a dinner at the table most nights.

of all the blues and reds and yellows, your hue is my favorite
the tie dye of your soul reflects a rainbow kite
flying so high, sailing the shore of good vibes
down below, the sea otters gaze
at your marvelous beauty
and hair, that matches the sandy shores
that flowers wish to be upon
like a halo of daisys and roses
angelically arrayed, happily.

I'm growing weary
of finding ways
to make myself
come.