To whom it may concern;
As I watch you from afar,
It seems your mental living conditions have become poor.

While the paint on your house seems new,
the garden, gently cared for
and your front porch, freshly swept
all of the rooms in your house are a mess.

The foyer,
which once invited large storms of crowds
and your master suite;
the most lavish room in the entire house
are covered in trash, half-empty bottles,
and what i can only surmise
as a deep depression in the walls and floor

But your attic, whereby
you store your most valuable treasures
thought,
wisdom
beauty
appears to have grown dark
and now neither dark basement nor top floor
can be told apart

so dear,
i write you this, to speak of my qualifications
my abilities, as a household repairman
though i may not hold any formal degree,
please,
see my references,
as quite soon, i would love to get to work
and teach you
to rebuild your home

you don't cross my mind anymore
the notes of you love you wrote me
that once stayed fixed upon my desk,
but no more

you don't cross my mind anymore
i used to stay awake at night,
with just my skin and bones
worrying about the last words i said to you
but no more

you don't cross my mind anymore
so when it's weekend again,
and i find myself missing
how we read words of love to each other
i can firmly say
the hole you left has been rebuilt

with my own two hands.