Walls Held Together By Scars Poem by Roopkatha Dutta

Down the hall and through the kitchen
There's the litterbox
The one that has the map of cracks
From holding a decade of your weight

Down the hall and through the glass
Two chairs hold the ghosts of you
Cushions still sculpted into the shape of your sleep
The sun used to bathe you there
Finding the specks hidden in your dull green eyes
The sun still finds your chair, no longer having you to warm

Down the hall and to the right
Is the kitchen table that never saw a day without you
Every sunrise, you'd be there
Pleading to be fed
Either under or on top of
You were always there

Down the hall and through the living room
Is where the couches I wish we still had were
The sides torn up from you clawing at them
Next to them lies a scratchpad
The one that you never bothered to touch

Down the hall and into a room
Lies the bed where you sat and stared
The day she was brought in from the hospital
Three days old
The one who can't remember life without you
The one who doesn't know life without you
Her laptop constantly casts a glow onto her face
As she scrolls through images, reminders of you
Your sister

Down the hall and into another room
Sits the man who you considered the perfect chair
The one who has his laptop open
He can't get away from work, though maybe the distraction is welcome
His gallery is filled with the blurry selfies
Of him holding on to you
Your father

Down the hall and to the left
Lies a woman curled up in bed
The one who measured her days by making sure you were fed
Who held you up when you were too weak to stand
The one you laid on as you took your final breaths
Her breaths melting into your hushing ones
Your mother

Down the hall and far behind these walls
Up the country
Is the woman who claimed to not want the burden of your paws
The one who loved you anyway
The one who you slept with at night
The one who couldn't be here when you left
Your grandmother

We share the marks left behind by you, carved into our skin
The house is held together with scars