A Repeatedly Abandoned Building (insafemode) wrote,
A Repeatedly Abandoned Building
insafemode

  • Music:

The Fix

During the last Depression
Roosevelt lost track of the White House's stability
He was so focused on war and the fragile economy
he didn't notice the ground sinking beneath him
not metaphorically

In 1948 Harry Truman was told The White House was no longer structurally sound
Floors swayed instead of creaked
The president's bathtub sunk into the floor
But The White House was such an institution
that Truman couldn't allow it to be demolished
so for four years he had the White House rebuilt from the outside in
while he moved into the house across the street

I wanted to build my arms into a home where you felt comfortable
but they weren't big enough
so I called them a lobby
My mouth was a door that locked when you twirled my tongue counter clockwise
Each key I cut for you was a work of art
you lost in other mens' pockets

I tried to build myself more solid
Tune out the echoes of plaster cracking
the cringe of metal driving metal into wood
as you drove nail after nail into my flesh
with no regard for my skeletal structure or artery placement

Hammers destroy as easily as build
The claw can't apologize
Just rip the nails out of you

The verb "to fix" can mean to repair
or to dishonestly influence the outcome of a game or trial
To fix can mean injecting yourself with a narcotic
It can mean to focus your eyes on something
or to castrate an animal

I was fixed by you somehow
I'll call it repair
So focused on being stronger
I failed to notice how weak I'd become

I had built myself backwards
A carefully crafted facade
without proper support
stairwells leading nowhere
my shoulders not level enough to hold you
windows to rooms no outside world should see

I'm sorry you couldn't stay here with me
You aren't the tenant I was built for
And honestly
you never took care of me the way that you should have
never bothered taking off your shoes before walking all over me
And eventually you decided I was
at best
a vacation home
a small cabin to visit when the gurgle of life grew too loud
and you needed a place to weekend or summer with no responsibility
Who cares if the spiders web the corners
How the inch thick the dust falls on my shoulders

And I let you do this

And would do it again

I am a repeatedly abandoned building
Even at the crash
Even though I can see myself becoming splintered
Foundation cracking
Support all but gone
I still try and kiss the wrecking ball
As it insists on swinging away from me
Tags: fucken love, poetry, sora
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