I wrote this after reading “A House We Can Never Find” by Kapka Kassabova:

BRICKS AND MORTAR

Just bricks and mortar,
remnants of love peeling
from those walls,
no matchpot left
to mask the cracks
which stretch their fingers
further and further
until you can put your
fist through them,
and because it’s just
bricks and mortar
you can move again,
but the next one is just
bricks and mortar too,
and that’s when
you realise you’re
sharing your life
with someone who just
doesn’t
love
you.