Heartbreak House

The basement in my childhood home,
Before the divorce, before we moved,
Was all white and always very clean.
It smelled like laundry, and was never too brightly lit.
It felt too clean and untouched for me to be down there,
And I always felt I had to sneak around.

The afternoon sun flooded from the rooms on the west side
Into the hallway.
The sun was always brightest in my dad's guitar room
Where he had all thirteen guitars displayed for all to see.
He used to take them down and play songs for me
That I tried to learn the words to.

This was always my favorite part of a given day,
And now as my dad still loves playing guitar
Even if I'd rather listen to my own music,
I acknowledge him as the reason for my musical obsession