The House on the Corner

There's a house on the corner 
fighting not to be abandoned
But the residents inside are starting to dissipate in size
Every minute within it they feel they are losing what made them who they were

before

Its windows have slowly been fogging 
Causing the tenants to have difficulty seeing

the outside

The fog is blurring out everything

the only thing to be seen

being their own hell inside that house
Without a clear view they can't see into the distance nor

reflect on themselves

The door is starting to creek louder
every time it opens
It used to sound inviting

Hoping people would pop in without notice
Ready to showcase the passions past the surface of its porch
Inciting everyone to see what's inside
But now it's croaking

choking with force every instance it is swung aside
Ready to topple forward no longer able to stand up

against the weather coming towards it

The fence surrounding is starting to break formation
Ready to collapse under pressure
from the preventative measures taken

against certain animals stampeding inside the home
It used to be strong

could withhold an army of dark thoughts

with the security it gave off
Allowed those inside to focus their minds

on memories they relied on

Told them not to worry about painful memories
it'd fight them head on
But now these stampedes aren't letting bygones be bygones
They ride on hoping to take hold

of those creating a soul out of that home

The tenants living inside

are desperately trying
to patch it up to weather the stormy weather

They don't want it to die

They tether together pieces of wood 

Tethering together reasons to be alive
But every once in awhile a storm severs
everything they built up high
As if a house made out of bones

is now made of feathers

Delicate to even the mildest weather

There's a house on the corner of Cranial and Spinal Cord Drive
And they're desperate to survive 
Every part of them damaged beyond recognition
because someone thought they could be renovated with a drug addiction
     And now an SSRI is the only way

to let the wallpaper reflect the sunrise

     Their eyes are windows hoping to see a future for themselves

but with a blurry sight

they can only clearly see their own demise

     The frontal lobe is a door that won't articulate their thoughts any-more
hoping to one day be restored to a condition
where they can relay

their vision again

     The hippocampus a fence protecting the campus of happy memories

from interference of memories filled with sadness

and dread 

     The tenants paying rent are neurons protecting the house's head
but losing the fight to an external plight 

affecting the emotional steadiness

 they used to feel

 An external pill killing them

but depending on it still

There was a house on the corner 
And it knew some houses found a restoring force

in a capsules work 
But that was a renovation this house

found out it couldn't afford

without also giving up who they were 

before