you're like an impenetrable brick building that I was once locked in during a carbon monoxide leak.

I was almost content to stay inside and let you consume me, but the alarms went off and everyone knew I was there; you had me removed and I could do nothing about it.

And then, for more reasons than just that, you were condemned. unlivable. impossible.

so I had to leave, and so I started to feel better. and I realized in hindsight, that you were toxic. black mold, spiders, weak foundation, gas leaks. you were destroying me, as much as I was you, since I didn't know much about houses anyway.

so I slowly began to forget that I was ever there in the first place.

until I met new people who
didn't know about you and all the unmentioned things that we had gone through together and
so they invited me over,
into their home.

and upon arrival, I was amused with the contrast of then and now, and the memories of everyday life that happened within the walls, but

then it all came back and
I wanted to do nothing more than
take a sledgehammer to your frame and break you back, my fist to your windows, shattering them all because I didn't care about the glass shards imbedded in my skin then, so why would I now

i want a lighter
so i can light cigarettes,
toss them everywhere
i want to see toxic smoke,
slowly burning you down from the inside
so nobody can ever live here again
because you were mine

but
they have a family and
they're happy so
I just
leave.