Isn’t it strange that after a tragedy the home is cleaned up nicely, edges bleached and reprimed to a point where you would never know what happened there.
The pristine walls and clean smell may look pleasant and inviting to a new buyer.
It gives off a charm they have been keeping their eye out for and hoping that they would find. A little piece of heaven they imagined would be there waiting only for them.
They can’t see where you’re body once laid heart ripped from the corpses concave chest.
Eyes glossy and looking at the ceiling praying for death.
No, they don’t see it now do they?
They walk the halls delighted and smiling the same ones where the mask came off.
Where it was decided that this relationship was over and dead.
They can’t hear it can they?
The deafening silence when you were left for dead.
No.
They only see the shiny new you
that’s who you show them instead.
You hide all the cracks, fill them with new memories and dreams.
That door in the basement remains locked hidden scars underneath
I like this new you, the one you have become.
Everyday I hope that you never allow the masked invader to return.
the one who left you alone and overrun
I pray you pick up the pieces of broken glass and make a mosaic
something beautiful that lasts
I watched as you slowly cleaned up the mess on the floor.
Pieced your heart back together and reopened that door.
I know now what it is to love like you never have before.
With Love,
GV Rioz
Poetry With Me 
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