Brand Old

Sitting out on the window sill
Metal flower planter, slightly rusted
Sad and lonesome vines reached for the pavement
They weren’t long enough to reach

These brand old stairs follow me down
Telling the walls around them to hear my steps
And the multiple layers of love hiding
Down to the bare skin

Sitting out on a porch swing
I heard you say
“I’m going to need you to go away”
And with a pinch I felt the sting

The brand old shoes lead my shadow on
Telling this path to change direction
And the multiple layers of me leaving love
Down to the bitter end

Sitting at the edge of my bed
Metal concise legs, slightly busted
Sad and lonesome feet reached for the pavement
They weren’t trying to reach

The brand old faucet wouldn’t drain
Telling the time to build less tension
And the many hairs clogging got tough
Down to the bends

And I can hear the walls talking about me
The shadows coming back
Creaking from the porch swing
Vines reaching the stairs

This brand old way
I won’t ask that you stay


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