Brittle

The Big Bad Wolf needs to lay off for a bit because some of the bricks in my house are becoming brittle and I'm tired of sweeping the bits and pieces off my floor.

Old friendships brushed onto my dust pan and it's almost as if I can see their faces individually and can hear the echoes of the laughter my wooden rafters overhead...they said they'd be there always, yet maybe they never really were, as I peer at the holes in my wall growing larger and larger with each passing day. As they have grown, I've discovered that the faces have become bleaker in my memory...

Empty promises, statements, and reassurements, yep, those particles are in the dust pan too...mostly from those people I once trusted...things like, "I would never do that with my life...I've seen too many people suffer from those mistakes in my family" what makes you think it's easy for me to watch you make the same mistakes, dumbass? You are my best friend...

As the piles of rubble gather outside my backdoor, I've come to realize something... Not all things are permanent, not even concrete. They've dumped me in their yards, maybe it's time for me to do the same.