There is always a leak somewhere.

A breach in a less traveled zone.

I can always hear it when it starts.

Starting as a trickle and becoming a pour.

Pooling in areas I do not actively observe.

Fixable if I tend to it in time.

***

The leak is never easy to tend to.

Forced to pry up boards and break through walls.

Areas I hoped to never enter again,

But I have to break it open for it to mend again.

A step back I must take to stop the flood.

For if I will not, it will cause the damage itself.

***

People were never meant to withstand the water pressure you see.

Even if one flooded room is locked, the foor will soon collapse.

That space lost forever before seeping through the wall to the next.

I have seen people cave in their entire house.

Not a single structural wall left to hold the weight.

Rotted to nothing and lost to the tide.

***

These people are content to let the flood in.

It confounds me even as I rebuild.

Happy enough to travel from room to room by self made boats.

They act like everything is normal even as the water rises.

Moving their belongings to higher shelves or floors.

Even as the water pushes them out of sight.

***

I know there is always another leak.

I never expected to live as a plumber just like everyone else.

But as I see them coast by on their little boats I remember again.

What I fight to protect against.

To have a better life.

For a house is horribly cold without the ability to light a fire.