Half-Built

I laid the bricks with calloused care,
Each stone a vow, each beam a prayer.
The hammer sang from noon to gloom.
While you locked yourself in that silent room.

I raised the walls against the storm,
You curled inside where it was warm.
I built a home, you built a tomb.
And still I knocked upon your room.

I carved our names in timber grain,
Through sweat and sun and aching strain.
The walls still bare, the floors undone.
You turned away, said you were done.

The roof not raised, the paint not dried,
Yet still you walked, no last goodbye.
You left the frame, the ghost, the gloom.
While I stood knocking on your room…