Attachment Issues

I turned the brass and felt the metal slip,

a hollow rattle deep inside the wood.

The house is losing every solid grip

it promised back when everything was good.

The knob is spinning like a loosened tooth,

refusing now to latch or stay in line.

It’s telling me a cold and jagged truth:

that nothing here is actually mine.

I found a screw upon the welcome mat,

a silver bone the lock had spit away.

The hardware’s tired, and that is simply that;

it’s done with trying to keep the world at bay.