As our marriage crumbled,
as you treated both me and our house
with equal neglect, the mold appeared.
We learned that a wall could collapse;
the room was torn down and rebuilt,
the foundation was shored.
Finally, the ancient windows were replaced.
The workers polished the exposed ceiling beam,
Providing an illusion of stability.
With the new walls, fresh paint, and newly polished floor,
the rebuilt room made all the other rooms look even worse
than they had before. You bragged to our friends
that you had chosen the marble-swirl finials,
then you cancelled our vacation.
With the mold gone, I could breathe again,
and with clean lungs and dry eyes,
I cancelled our marriage.
Diane Elayne Dees
If you have any
thoughts on this poem, Diane Elayne Dees would be pleased to hear them.