Abandoned

She took me next door. There was a hose on the roof, and an unlocked door and the leftover wallpaper peeling. The grass was unkempt and the gate didn’t lock properly. Beyond, lay the Allegheny, moving fast towards the right of our eyeline-the docks pressed in towards one another in the same way you line up sleeves of Oreos.
We’ve always been interested in what is left over. The remains of buildings, and fences, walls, windows, gardens and people. Abandoned.
What happens when no one is looking? 
Are you heard? Are you seen? 
Are you just forever waiting for people to run up your back staircase to peep inside over your kitchen sink and be asked to reveal your secrets?
We laid in bed, adults with adult fears and problems, after too long in the grocery store with not enough cheese curls and too many rum drinks and laughed and laughed about the cord she could not plug into the wall. 
Oh, it was funny. And when I think about it now-the corners of my mouth turn upwards on their own accord. We laughed and laughed, and laughed and laughed so much she choked on her water and my stomach ached with it.
When we aren’t here, will anyone know? Will anyone sit still enough to hear the memory of that laughter against the quiet night? How we roared louder than the train on its tressle. That there was horrible things but good ones too? That you can’t sum anything up simply by looking at a picture.
So I’m writing it down. 
My heart is battleworn and afraid. Petrified of losing and horrified at some of my choices. Angry, sometime, and often sad. It’s muddy and slow. Lonley. No match equivalent. No magic to fix the true biological aspects of time and patience.
But on a dark night, in my sisters house, before falling asleep with Liam curled against my legs-I howled like a child. And I remembered, I wasn’t alone. 
I was not the house next door. I too held memories in my bones, and some of me is worse for ware. Peeling even. Unkempt. But I was not abandoned.