South FW.

He brought us to a
halfway abandoned
Slaughter House.
I thought it ironic
that a place which
once took away life
so readily,
now practically
bleeds artistic flow.
You left your mark
on the wall,
ten years ago.
Suddenly I felt as though
I had taken you back
to a place you had
never wanted to revisit.
Our steps were quiet
and cautious, and
the sun lit each floor dimly,
while sirens blared
in your conscience.
Two thin dogs ran
off into the distance,
My heart still thumps
with angst.

We visited your grandmother.
Her eyes were
filled with love, and
Yours lit up, too.
A kiss on the cheek,
A wash of the hands,
and off we went.

You drove past
the house you grew
Up in, the house you
dealt with so much in.
You acted as if it
weren't your home,
but a place you merely
resided in.
I have discovered that
I am the single most
Boring Person Ever.

-A