The house
I 'am dead inside. Each new day I feel another part of me die. IT's like a withering old house. You thought it'd be a good idea then you realized the work and just left it. Years later you return and find holes, vines all up the house, so much that you can barely see it. Like the vines felt the need to protect and secure it, so that it's never left alone again. Untouched and Unloved (except for the vines). Even Mother Nature feels the pain for the left behind, the forgotten. She finds a way to hug and protect what once was. She finds a way to keep the house hidden from pain. I"AM THE HOUSE and IAM DEAD INSIDE
Copyright © Cindy Foust | Year Posted 2024
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