To love that which we once did hate

The asbestos-laced peeling gray paint
can’t conceal the heart-break
it attempts to ward off behind the walls.
The primer contaminated with small crimson spots
and the glossy finish already succumbed to the shadows
that dance around the rotting wooden floor.
Plaster pasted over numerous holes won’t hold back
All these broken dreams.
They’ll seep out through the cracking sealant
In the upstairs bathroom
and tear through the tiles in the form of our tears.
There are slashes in your flesh, I can’t make it all better.
No emotion can escape through that.
Hope, now, the mystical creature
You’ll beg to spy in your dreams; only possibilities of optimism,
While sentiment can only shirk through a sorrowful sigh
Or a heated argument amongst lovers
Fighting an already lost battle
Against these feelings of rage, amassing all around us
As we go about your dreadful days.
We attempt to cover it with a false sense of comfort
By changing the slightest aspect of our surroundings.
But, still, we must face our fear and learn to love
That which we once did hate;
That is the secret of survival.