Spackle and fresh paint,
But the holes in the walls are still there,
Like the holes in my heart are still here.

I have learned to take your fist
And kiss it with my nose.
Will I miss your “tough love” when you finally go?

Spirits ripped from small walking corpses,
This house is filled with ghosts.
I’m so ******* tired of waking with a scream in my throat.