When I found you, you were nothing. A rotted out cabin abandoned and weathered. You stood alone on your sea of brown grass, and through your broken shutters and chipped paint you screamed to become something beautiful. I adopted you, moved in, became a part of you, and the longer i stayed the more beautiful you became. Your paint became fresh and vibrant. Your shutters straight and repaired. You attracted beautiful houses and promised beautiful sunsets. Your halls were filled with beautiful furniture and a warm fire. But the grass stayed dead, brown and rotting. You were something of beauty and warmth. You had remodeled your rotting self into something you were proud of. You invited guests in, made them feel safe. You weathered my storms and protected me from them. You allowed the sunshine to flood in, and prevented the rain from touching my head. You gave me shelter and security. But the grass stayed dead, brown and rotting. You were a house of lies and appearances, a house of deceit and manipulation and you almost had me fooled, trapped forever in your sullen halls. But then the storm came. The storm that took away your facade and only left the brown grass, dead trees, and rotting flowers. You were poisoned and broken. Your foundation was evil and corrupted. And no matter what promise you build, no matter how elegant or beautiful, your foundation will never change. and no one can fix that, not even me