The years have separated us like a scalpel does skin. You, as to be expected have rolled on without ever shifting shape, without ever changing. You remain that towering building in the middle of the sky watching the little people living your life for you; at one time I was one of those people waiting for your shuddering commands, the cold rain that washes you clean. Now, I am only ashes, the dust that settles on everything and means nothing to anyone. The nuisance that sweaty hands smudge away but always I will reappear.
I bet the insecurities still chip away at your mortar. I bet you still hide in your car to take a hit. I bet you still cover your eyes when you feel like crying. Who cleans up your destruction now? Is it just anyone that wanders by? Just the homeless looking for shelter or have you found a caretaker, another naive person who wants to immortalize your hollow walls.
I wonder did I ever hurt you? Was it ever very hard? Did the flowers that I placed along your side slowly die or is it the cruelty that you like. The red hot anger that resurrects you.
When I washed away to dissolve your sins did you know that I would come back in a more solid form. That I would settle with contempt over everything until that hand finds me again.
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Submission Name: The Dirty Skyscraper
