Silence tears me from the bed into a place I’ve never been
Out on the street looking at a house that seems strangely familiar
Windows are boarded up, yet the door is propped open
Nearly inviting me to come in for a while.

Immediately I go to the table, where papers are strewn
Incoherent writings of an earlier time
When this house was busy raising a family
I pick one up, but the only word I can read is “shout.”

Locked up in a web
Pretending to be asleep
Longing for what she’s afraid to have
Yet far too strong to weep.

She’s crazy from the events before
You don’t even want to hear about
I’d say she took the side street
But honestly, she went another route.

Now she’s like a wolf in the forest
Happy to have found a bone
Living life on the edge of reason
Yet always safely alone.

I wander over to the piano and wipe off some dust
Lift the lid and play a note, reeling from it being out of tune
There is such beauty in a piano that just sits
It has the capacity to make such beautiful music, yet never boasts.

I walk over to a chair that looks so worn, I wonder how it sits
You’d think by now it would be a pile on the ground
Yet it stays firmly in place, never moving, never dying
Material items are so beautiful in that way
It takes a human to destroy them, they don’t destroy themselves.

You broaden the brush to paint her
Always keeping your hand clutched
While you wonder what she’s doing just now
We’re all wondering if she’ll ever be touched.

She isn’t the woman you’ll get easily
There are plenty of women like that
She’s more of a “I’ll come to you when I want”
Very nearly like a cat.

Simple mathematics and a little time
You could almost figure it out
Yet leaving her alone like this
Always makes her pout.

In a flash my room is gone
I’m back in bed, laying on my back
Wondering why this dirty little house
Reminded me so much of myself.

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