Sometimes a brief visit is needed.
To places not with warrant… but insist on being remembered.
This cowardliness, tour, knows not of relationships…May or December.
Like so many before…
It is easy to have forgotten the front door.
Clutter, shutter, trashy and gutter.
A place to go…when you realize you have not gone that far.
Where the ruts have become gaping divides.
A broken erected challis…providing not place to hide.
Thus, a kinship to all things left unfinished.
Prisoner to what could have been.
Nothing to be seen…in the midst of ruin…but buyer’s remorse.
Gutted from the inside out, as a matter of course.