This street is not how I remember it.
The leaves are darker and
the pavement has more scars.
I imagine that you would look similar.
Time has left his footprints here.
He came when you and I left.
The FOR SALE sign makes my heart stutter.
It was as inevitable as
the storm was promised by the sky;
it feels like a knife in my back.
We once owned this street:
every tree, every slab of concrete,
every lamppost was ours.
We even owned the moon that
shined down on us like a spotlight
on the nights when you would
wrap me in your arms
and I would wrap you in my words.
And now, I don’t even recognise
this darker sky.
There were the tender days:
the days we protected like
we planned to love our children.
The days of homemade cooking,
of sewing up our bruises,
and the sounds of Time
Fate had always hated me:
always making me miss my bus,
catch every red light,
and have to walk home in a storm.
I thought Fate had stopped
playing these schoolyard games
and had finally grown up.
But that FOR SALE sign
was just a knife that Fate had
handed to me on a silver platter.
He’d dug it into my back so quickly,
like a doctor giving a child an inoculation,
that I hadn’t felt the pain until now.
And maybe Fate wanted us to be together.
And maybe Fate changed his mind on us.
And maybe Fate will always be an indecisive bastard.
But now, this street leads me up to
the door that used to belong to you.
But I know that if I knocked,
nobody would answer me.
the street is up for anyone’s taking.
And I will walk away.