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Mar 2019
do you ever think about our old house?
the yellow one
with the red door
and uneven steps

i do

i think about whoever might live there now

i wonder if they can feel our presence
lingering in the walls of what used to be
our bedroom

i wonder if the footsteps of the ghost of our love
keeps them up at night

i wonder if they can hear the echo of the front door slamming
the walls shaking
the shatter of the picture frame that fell
the sound of your car door closing

i wonder if they found the sock that fell behind the dryer

i wonder if the door frame that we broke ever got fixed

i wonder if they wonder about us

sometimes i try and pin point the exact moment we lost ourselves
but there isn't a single moment

the ache of it still keeps me up at night
Kay Reed
Written by
Kay Reed  F/ohio
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