There was nothing left,
Nothing behind the walls,
Just the gutted insulation
The studs left to rust
Old beams swollen and rotten
Memories long since gone
From this place

Once, the drywall had held laughter
It had held tears and joys,
Rainy nights and sunny days
And a dozen mornings of awkward
Silences and a millennia’s worth
Of tender moments

A first kiss was here once,
Oh so long ago,
Gentle and confused as
Pursed lips met for the first time
Over eager and earnest in their affections
New love coming to a head
And it was here that the sweet girl
Wept so furiously with fists pounding
Against stuffed pillows with mascara
Streaking the cotton fabric

They’ve all gone,
Some are old,
Some have children
Some are dead

A few of them died
Fast, hands in syringes
And the black cancer within
Spilling upon the veins of life
With great anger and devouring them
Whole

A few of them died so slow,
Wasting and wasting with liquid
Down their throats, bloating and
Emaciated, victims and prisoners alike

Some died with smiles on their faces
Surrounded by those they loved

Some have children,
Grandchildren, nieces
And nephews, all beginning
New lives of their own

They all move, except
For this house

It rots, decaying
As time marches forward
Perhaps men in plastic hats
Arrest the slow death

Until then,
It is nothing