this house is falling down around us.
the creak of breaking timber fills my dreams.
the walls crumble into sawdust, and
the roof splits and falls and
i can finally see
the stars for once.
did they ever shine so bright
through a wooden wall?

i can hear you screaming still
in the prison you created
for me,
the prison that could not
keep me.
i have never been home.
and you,
you're still hiding behind walls of
unfulfilled promises and regrets,
beating your fists softly
on the concrete walls
and it occurs to me that
you never wanted to be
free
you just enjoy the
pretense.

and i leave this house
for the first time
in a lifetime.
the doorframe is all that is
left. and i walk through it,
not around it,
but i walk through it.
and it falls into matchsticks
behind me.

and i smell the sea, and
i see the stars, and
i smile that smile that
i had forgotten to smile.
i start walking.
away from
you
and the pile of driftwood
that you imprisoned yourself in.
that's all it ever
was.

and i don't miss you,
not yet i don't miss you,
but if i do,
i can wait for the tide to
wash my memories clean.
and when i come upon
a pile of driftwood on the shore,
i will cast it into the sea
and know i've set you
free.