this place is wonderful, don't you think?
the cracked wood of the doors from when you've slammed them
aren't these hallways cozy? i used to lean my back to their walls listen to you yell
isn't my shattered mirror stunning?
i used to cry in its reflection and promise i'd never be like you
isn't my neurotic mind intelligent?
as i washed the chalk off my fingers from pouring my messages to you onto the driveway.
didn't my white cardigan look soft?
i pulled it tightly around myself as i walked out the door for good.
don't you love your beautiful, broken home?
i hope you love what you have. all alone in your horror-show house.