These bedroom walls had heard a lot about us;
our stories as we talked about our dreams,
to the simplest things like how our days went,
your awful but funny singing every time you sang to me,
Embedding a love ballad on my wall.
These walls had witnessed a lot of what we did;
seen me seek your comfort every time my parents fought,
watched with us during our movie nights,
and seen how we spent our nights tangled between the sheets.
—it got pasted with pictures of our memories together.
These walls felt a lot of things;
our pain when we started spitting venomous words,
When you drowned yourself in beer, it felt the remorse in your heart,
Our loneliness as we cried making sure we were unheard,
and felt our care slowly dissipate as we began to drift apart.
These walls heard the tune of our love
—until it got quiet.
These walls hold a lot of our stories,
and by painting it in blank white,
I’m silencing our wall of memories.