Built by one, made for
Two, then
Three, then
Four.
You were brand new, yet you already felt like
Home.
Over the next forty years
You'd get extensions - a second floor,
A third floor, an endless expanse of brown carpet and cork tiles.
You were filled, slowly with things -
Art, souvenirs from trips away, books, collections.
You became a sanctuary -
For artists, for family, for friends.
Your walls reverberated with the shouts
Of children, the yowls of cats, the steady
Thrum of tools.
And you were happy.
You watched over the children, saw them grow up, and fall in love.
And you watched those children as they
Saw you for the first time, running their
Fingers over your bumps and lumps,
Rolling marbles down your stairs,
Playing hide and seek in your corridors.
But as you got older, so too did your family.
The children grew up and left, and slowly
One by one, you were emptied
Until just two remained.
But then
Something incredible happened.
New children arrived.
A little girl, and her littler brother.
They ran down your halls, and once again
You were filled with the sound of laughter.
And sure, you leaked when it rained
But that just taught the little girl
To use pots and pans to catch the drips.
And sure, your floors stained the soles
Of everyone's feet, but that just gave
The little girl an excuse to wear her
Big fuzzy slippers.
And that little girl, she came every week
For years and years.
You watched over her like she was your
Child, like she was the first children
That chased each other through your rooms.
Slowly, that little girl came less and less
Until one day
She wasn't so little anyomore.
But she still came, and she still loved you.
And that's all you ever asked.
But one day, your family of two
Became one. And slowly
That one became none.
One day, the last of that first two
Left.
Packed her bags, and walked away from you.
And you were sad.
Over time, the children, now grown
Arrived. You greeted them with open arms
But they didn't notice.
They hurried up your flights of stairs
And carried with them boxes.
They put all the things you held dear
Inside, taped them up, took them away.
One of the children, one you hadn't watched
Over the years took a hammer
And ripped apart your very framework
Pried all the extra bits of you away from your walls, tore away all the pieces that were so
Lovingly put up by the first of the family.
And then came the people.
You'd been so used to the silence
That it scared you at first.
Piles of them, trampling your floors
Curiously poking their heads into
Every one of your nooks and crannies,
All your private spaces.
It was endearing with the children,
But these were fully grown adults.
You watched them leave, one by one.
But two stayed.
Two who loved you for everything
You were, who would cherish you.
So here you are, ready to meet
Your new family.
And here's that little girl, the one who
Grew up loving you, finally writing your story.
~and this is her saying goodbye.
~july 2019
