Weathered Foundation

Wipe that look off your face

and I’ll tell you I’m happy,

or so they say I’m supposed to say.

I’m roleplaying with an image captured

when times fell through the cracks

of an insidious intention,

robbing me of a foundation,

for the home we built

with a sturdy reflection,

but a hurricane shifted the walls

to crumble into rubble.

I should leave, or so my friends say.

The strain of debt wrapped around my neck

moves me to the edge of what’s best for me.

I pondered escaping this life,

or so my selfishness insisted.

The home is gone, but the foundation keeps

us together in our new apartment.

I should leave, we both said.

But Hannah cascaded into my arms,

spilling crystal tears

as a confession that our love

transcends split walls in collapsed halls.

I’m happy, which isn’t what I’m supposed to say.

I inhale the memory in the picture with pleasure.

By Andy Cooper

From: United States

Website: https://drinkcoffeewrite.online/

Twitter: AC0040