Moving Day

This is the junk

moved back and forth

from door to door...

except it wasn't the old stereo,

or the cardboard box of old China.

It was a pile of pain.

What a broken bag of bones.

This past garbage

floats in like an impending storm.

Hanging on chandeliers,

and hiding where the corners

meet the walls.

It should have been left behind.

Like the dusty old decorations

and the rusty dust pans...

It was packed in between

my happy memories

and a mirror that nags.

There's that same person

walking through the door.

As pensive and disgusting

as the unforgivable bastards

lingering in undesirable history.

So here we are again.

Old habits impairing new faith.

The key to bright futures

can't be hid under this doormat.

All windows were opened to avoid the suffocation....

and I tossed out so many belongings

into the dumpster.

I'd rather carry nothing to hold these 

charlatans that remain.

When there isn't anything left,
except the nails in the walls,

and variant breakdowns....

step aside bête noire.

You will no longer live to attack me

in my happy home.