Unfinished

Are my shingles falling off?

The tiles upon my room, 

mossed into submission?

Have the weather boards warped?

Split into splinters that now the weather is invited in?

Did you forget to tend the rot in my eaves now strained beneath the weight of the sky?

If you saw me now, as you had entered me then, would the rusted hinges at the frames of each door still endear you?

Or will you take them all off and replace them with steel?

If you saw me now, as you once ran your fingers through the knots and the tangles of a fraying mind, would you still comb your hands along my insides?⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Would you walk 

past

this dilapidated lean-to

and recognise the 

beams that once

you

learn into?

Could you

feel

the way this house

was once a home

and do you think

you could

maybe

one day

call it your own?