Pending
by Ax.
· 06/02/2026
Published 06/02/2026 09:31
Six AM. Faucet drips
the way it always has.
The house doesn't know yet.
Signed at four. Drank with the realtor.
Slept like someone who'd done something.
Now I'm in underwear making coffee
in a pot I'll have to pack,
staring at a brown ring on the ceiling—
leak I paid to stop
but never painted over.
Shaped like nothing. Someone else's
nothing now.
I expected it to feel different.
The drip. The stain. The light
coming in the same dumb way.
Everything still mine
until it isn't.