i visited my parents house yesterday
it had changed so much since i had lived there last
no more room for feelings of nostalgia
it didn't remind me of christmas mornings
or bring to life the photographs of birthday cakes and smiles
at dinner monotonous conversation led me away upstairs
expecting nothing i decided to visit my old room
walking up the narrow stairs i felt your presence with me
two summers ago we lived here, never leaving
we were burnt from the inside out with love and cigarettes
burnt from the outside in by the sun
cascading through the ceiling window
i saw the sun rays fall on your eye lashes;
thought to myself this is why it rises every morning
just to touch something beautiful
i thought of how we never left each other
built my life around you
a life that didn't seem to exist outside my bedroom walls
it made me feel uncomfortable
after a week of forgetting i was remembering again
the cliche of wondering what you were doing
turning to leave i saw it
my ugly younger self's handwriting
where i had written your name on the wall above my bed
memories came back like flashing images in my minds eye
writing your name on the wall one night
you were smiling and laughing
asking if my dad would mind, i said i didn't care
since then my bedroom does not look like my bedroom, our bedroom
your name is still visible over the thick layer of gone-off white paint
as i leave i hope to myself that your name will not be visible
through the layer of hate, regret and disappointment
i've used to paint over your memories inside the walls of my mind
true story