Landlord

You have paid rent in my mind for so long, it’s hard to find a memory that you have not dirtied up with the careless occupancy of ownership. The names of curly-haired middle school crushes that I once carved on old wooden desk tops have been painted over by your freckled hands, and the sting of forgetting burns my nose more than the chemicals of an oak varnish ever could. If I were to evict you, it would make no difference. You have left marks on the inside of me that no bleach or broom could ever scrub away. It would be all too easy to get a new tenant, one with bluer eyes and a whiter smile, But it would still be your hair stuck in the bottom of the shower drain, and he probably wouldn't know how to fix the refrigerator when it stopped working or me. Besides, I can’t remember where I put the spare key anyways.