Between Bruises & Blooms

I thought we were building something.

Brick by borrowed brick. Promise by promise.

I carried windows you carried blueprints.

Or maybe I only imagined there were two sets of footprints around the foundation.

One day I looked up and realized I had been building a home for someone who had already walked away.

Some structures do not collapse.
They are simply left unfinished—

roof open to the rain, doors waiting for hands that never return.

Perhaps ruins are just dreams that ran out of builders.