Foundation.

Sometimes I wonder if my draw to abandoned buildings
Is in some way connected
To the fact that I know what it feels like to be
Left behind
Forgotten
To fend for oneself.
And maybe
Just maybe
For those few minutes or hours
Those buildings can breathe in
The presence of someone
New
Appreciative
Careful

Not to damage the integrity any further, but rather
Marvel at the beauty that remains
Despite countless years of
Neglect
Weathering storms and
Inconsiderate people that think it's
Perfectly acceptable
To come in
Unannounced
Unwelcome and
Unkindly
Claiming any small bit of beauty that is left.

Marking their territory with deep cuts of
Black
Blue
Purple and
Red
Paint that serves as
Bruises and
Scars on something that was once held in such
High regard
Respect and
Admiration.

Maybe they can sense that my presence comes
Not from a place that wants to
Gawk at the ruins
Stare at the destruction or
Judge how it came to look so
Tattered and torn.
Maybe they can sense that my presence comes
Solely from a place that wants to
Bask in the sunlight that streams through the cracks
Admire that the structure is still sound and be
Inspired by the beautiful pieces
That are still left

Begging to be loved and appreciated
By someone who understands that sometimes,
All you have left is a
Foundation of what you once were
What you were built on and
What you could become again.