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The Armoire

de Owen

The armoire that you found by the dumpster
While visiting your sister's house
It looks fine in the living room where the others
You've rescued go to die
That old mirror by the bed
Without much of anything to reflect
Save for a few holes in a crippled bed post
Shadows that don't move
Cob webs in the corner
A dead spider on the wall
I'm home but I'm not home
Boxes in the basement that were spared
From rising waters
Discarded blood-stained drum skins and sticks
Rest on your mother's mattress
I'm home and somehow while I was gone
This house I'd left for dead had lingered on
I'm home with my own family in tow
Everything is the same but different
I'm home again
The devil knows I'm born again
But I can't hold these walls up on my own

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