A house I wanted to grow old in

You are the closest image of home I have ever encountered. I buried my secrets into your crumbling foundation. My truths filled the holes of your cracking backbone. You loved it; more so you needed it to survive. My voice built up your towering walls; complimenting your egotistical nature. My heart knocked down your latched door and I poured myself into your abandoned body. My mosaic fingerprints covered your shattered glass windows. I'm stuck on you. I nailed the palms of my hands into the floorboards in case on the possibility of an eviction. I will not go. We wrote "no trespassing" on our chest cavities screaming at everyone to run away. That this is our love, our home. You snuck people in the back door when I wasn't looking. You painted your walls green like the envy that bubbles in my throat when i found her smell lingering in our air vents. The cement begins crumbling underneath the weight of my fragile heart. I shattered a plate on the floor when I saw her in your embrace. The echoing scream was not the breakage of the china on the hardwood flooring of our love, that was my heart. She used my jealousy to set aflame our whole home. Every memory of us washed away like ashes in a flood. We built this home on our love and trust but you decided a home built on lies and broken promises was more of your forte. 

This poem is about: 
Me
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