Likened to abandoned theme park
Once fond memories cracked like abused porcelain
Affections taken over by invasive species
The fragrance and flavors once beloved, now poisoned and tasteless
My only want was to finally build a real home with you
A sanctuary
To capture a sense of pride and ease within the walls of our first attempt at creating this space together
To build something meaningful
To have a combined sense of accomplishment
What we are going through makes me think we do not bring out the best in one another
That we don't even like each other
That we are starting to become some angry sense of entitlement to our feelings instead of acknowledging the experience and skills we each possess and allowing them to be demonstrated
That incessant reference to one's opinion
Shouting from the rooftops just to be heard, right or wrong
The begging to just be
Respected
Cared for
Supported
Fought for instead of against
Overwhelmed by the demand for control
The chaotic pattern of pain
The bickering
The embittered, defensive replies to the simplest inquiry
The pushback against a simple difference of view
The lack of compromise because the war to be right appears to be more important than being happy
Sick to death of the exhaustion and sleeplessness and isolation
Happiness ruined by blame and selfishness
A creeping death, like a filthy air filter, will eventually have its way
So sick of contemplating a life beyond depression instead of living it
A life without a broken back
Without a broken voice
Without a broken heart
Starting to forget what it used to feel like to walk without the sting of these burdens around my ankles
Pulled into a stairwell of despair and breaking every bone on the way down
The constant ache
The stress from tiptoes on thin ice
The cuts from the shattered glass of the window pane
The threat of never recovering
Imminent with each misstep
Building upon an already cracked foundation
A landscape of burned out Earth, choking on the drought
Homeless dreams in littered streets
Dreams of you
A starving canine with your ribs showing, escaping reality by wandering the street for scraps
as I lie in wait, "slowly killing myself" as you look on
Past me
Through me
Those framed glass shards and their tattered curtains
Might as well be my body, my heart, and my soul
All in a seemingly endless, untenable state of disrepair
Scrubbing at the flaws until my hands bleed with no way to get the stains out
Gasping for breath with the hope of a new day
Stifled by the devastating collapse beneath the mountain of rubble