The curtains still blow in the wind yet nobody lives here. From my side, I stare at the vines hugging my fence for attention as there’s no warmth left in the house next door.

I got stuck staring and wondering where the people went, what they were like, and what happened.

The trash can is still in the fenced-in backyard. The curtains swing every time there’s a breeze and the rake leans against the back of the house probably to gather the leaves that used to fall off the tree that once towered tall in my yard. Now all that falls are tiles from a decaying roof and occasionally a piece of next door will move when the skunks, moles, and creatures explore what’s become their home. Even the roof here is crying.

This isn’t a home anymore it’s a house. It’s a structure that hasn’t been inhabited in ten years and ten more from now it’ll probably fall down because my neighborhood can’t afford to demolish it.

So many of these houses in this town look like something or someone swarmed in and people grabbed nothing but themselves and left. There’s so many abandoned windows with dirty curtains sashaying with the wind hoping to be danced in again.

Unfortunately, a lot of the houses sit still until it falls by its own demise or some spark of misfortune catches it on fire or a car crashes into it sending its foundation crumbling and leaving nothing but dust and rubble.

Neighborhoods in America are built around housing and cars. Staring at these empty buildings on my mid-day strolls makes me sad enough to think that the sidewalks deserved better. We’re wasting space and creating so much red tape. We can’t fix this building but we can’t tear it down so it sits still… Kind of like my town.

“We have empty homes and homeless people but we can’t connect them together because America is a corporation. Human services is not embedded in capitalistic core values.” – @justdae