Peeling and falling off- we are the walls of this old house.
Crowbars to the floor boards.
We’re being lifted up, to lay new ground. 

Many people have forced their way in, to only destroy the beauty of our own abandonment. 

They marked our mirrors and painted over our insides, with words that hurt while we stood here motionless. 

We are the heart of this place. 

Our valuables taken, used as a one night place of shelter- we were useful to others for a moment.
Gutted and empty, we were alone. 
Unfixable. Condemned. Useless. 

We built a home that someone else set flames to. 

We are the building someone passes everyday only hoping one day to own it and make it alive again. 

We were so beautiful once.
The vision of someone else’s perfection and I swear, in the perfect light, the cracks between what we were and what the world makes us, lets in the most beautiful shade of serenity. 

We are the recovery of that pit that never seems to be fulfilled. 

We are the people we’re trying to fix