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November 22, 2010

sometimes I am emo.

A Tour through a Broken Past

I stepped into his house;

Nothing was different.

His red flower vase still sat slightly

to the right of the coffee table.

Five years later, his otter

brown coat I embraced so many times

was held, empty, on the coat hanger

beside the back door.

I smelled the coat.

I know it had been five years.

But everything was the same.

It smelled like autumn and woods and

his truck and old books.

I walked around.

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror.

Everything looked the same, but

Everything was not the same.

Then I left out the way I came,

Knowing completely of how we learn but rarely unlearn love.

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