It is how it is
we all just laugh it off and go home
to our spindly bed frames
and our burnt out Christmas lights from last year
It was how it was
a home that once held a soul
a dog that shit on the carpet whenever we left
and even a few fish
It is how it is
the coffee is, and always will be
too strong
and I keep getting holes in my socks
from the one nail that keeps trying
to jump from the ground
and land on the wall
to hold a painting of you
when you were okay, too.