Silence is like an old house.
The longer it goes untouched,
The more the damage spreads.
The home was left last loved and filled with warmth.
Laughter rang through the doorways,
And the sturdy floorboards held us high.
Much how I left you, with love and warmth and laughter.
And when I said goodbye I thought that light would last forever.
But just as the home grew weary in absence,
Such did you and I.
With no maintenance, the structure weakened as the days went by.
And speaking again after so long,
Felt as if I'd reentered that home.
I placed a foot on the hardwood
And expected it to not have changed.
But the plank was soft beneath me now,
And it no longer felt safe.
I was shocked at this idea,
That doing nothing
Could dismantle everything.
But in all those things I never said,
The darkness was able to
Crawl into your head,
Because it was more comfortable
Than the longing.