If You Think I’m Good For Nothing

You’re probably thinking you know me. I’m old and creepy, creaky and caving; unkept, unloved.

Definitely don’t run your hands against me, unless you want to spend the next week plucking splinters from your palms and fingers.

You don’t know me, yet you judge me; you judge what I’m capable of.

You think what you see now is what has always been. You see my warped beams and my cracking sills, my penetrable doors and my tired posts, my abandoned carcass, but

You didn’t know the sanctuary I was. You don’t know my floor is sacred and my walls are hallowed.

You don’t know what endless storms and icy nights I stood through, the scorching heat and the relentless hail.

A temple, a refuge.

A host and a home.

All you see is rot and wear, this is the point where you tear me down, where you're sick of looking at me.

A ghost, a shell from the past, haunting your view. An eye sore.

I fracture your landscape and decrease your property value. The space I take up could be used for something useful, something that pays for itself, something that always gives, but

You don’t know the life I held inside me. You never knew me in the past, the storms I weathered. The rain and wind and cold I stood through.

I was worthy because I gave without complaint. I was safety and warmth, never a burden, never needy.

If my beams are collapsing, doors hanging, hinges rusted; if I let the chill inside me and no longer protect you from its bite, if you think I’m good for nothing.

Just know, you’re wrong.

You don’t know what I’ve done, what I’ve stood through. You don’t know about the night, you didn’t listen to its howl. You weren’t there to resurrect my foundation when the first brick fell.

You didn’t see my poise, you were never impressed by my elegance. The height, my magnitude, a never ending place of solace.

I stood up tall for a while though. Even though I chipped and cracked, even though I just needed you to love me- to spend a day with me caring for my weathered walls, my punctured gambrel.

I needed some fresh nails, some paint. I needed you to care that I was falling apart, care that my job, my life was important.

If you were there you would have seen that I wanted to do it all. You would have seen that I would drown for you, take a beating for you. Keep you dry and your young ones safe.

I wanted to protect, to nurse, to hold and be cared for in return. I thought if I gave everything for you, if I covered and kept and worked and toiled for you; you’d notice.

You probably think you know me. Running your hands against my tired frame, shaking your head at the work. At the time it would take to fix me. Judging my fainting eaves, my darkness, my uninviting corners.

Never having stood in my Nave and looked up, up at my relentless strength.

Definitely don’t run your hands against me now, I will splinter you. Just know there was a time I wouldn’t- a time where I would never hurt you, only care for you.

A time where I wouldn’t cave in and crush you, when you wouldn’t want to tear me down.

You didn’t know the sanctuary I was. A temple where life came and went, a chantry of growth and love. All you see is rot and wear, haunting your view, disturbing the skyline. A ghost, an eye sore.

Just know you’re wrong. You don’t know what I’ve done, what I’ve stood through.