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Oct 2013
Ralyks was the project,
a home that she became cozy in
she was the architect of her own destruction
and she built him from the bottom up

he was easy to design
nothing she hadn't done before

he had his own scuffs,
as every piece you want to keep should,
a story beyond the image
a complex background
once hard for her to follow,
but she got used to telling it

he had curve appeal
he made people curious
pulled people in like a magnet
and fed off of their interest
until they, too, would walk away
or abuse the ease in which he connected to things

at times, he was the child to his owner
as a car is a mans baby
he was to his victims
something people wanted to hold on to
but something one could rarely take seriously

The home people wanted to own, but no one wanted to live in
constructed from a simple vacant lot,
false family equated to plumbing
around a basement of past memories
that related to its creator's
but were never exact
an electrical maze throughout the home
a puzzle that all lead back to her,
but was a house of mirrors in that every now and then
you had no choice but to hit a point where you werent sure
which path was real

there were obvious hints to it not being as solid of a home as one may think,
a slightly colder room, that could surprise you with a lack of insulation,
a light switch that didnt work, a flaw in the framework of wiring
sometimes frustrating deal breakers
to find out something so beautiful, modern
is a secret fixer-upper
that you have to tear off its cover
to reveal the chaos underneath
he could not call
he could not video chat
without revealing his chaos
and he lost potential buyers because of that

a true fixerupper in more ways than one
he gave his architect the feeling of comfort
that she created something so aesthetically stunning,
so modern, everything she wanted to own
exaggerated in its features
teaching her everything she needed to know about potential buyers

But one day
a tornado headed its way
and revealed its mediocre construction
took down the architect
left her with nothing
not even a vacant lot
just a junk yard
and smashed reputation
she had nothing she could do
other than pick up all of the pieces
left by what was once her masterpiece
Kim Davis
Written by
Kim Davis  Arkansas
(Arkansas)   
  974
   Alysia Michelle and ---
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