Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2019
My childhood house
has been ruined in a cheap remodel

I spent
15 years in that bedroom
hiding and hoping
to disappear

It worked -
now there's no trace of us left at all

Me and that room, both
far too small
(for what I was to become)

That sunroom-turned-hideout
has all it's guts on display
the red wires sparkling
in the light of day

The space it once held (for me)
a cavern of power, open now
adds itself to the lounge
creating space for others
Am I one with this room?

The fire that kept my wall warm in winter,
has been ripped apart

Gone with it,
the hole in the back of the chimney
where I had a cupboard for keeping rocks
The same cupboard
That wouldn't close
Even when jammed with books
Jammed close, because,
I feared I was watched through the crack
by some mysterious force
maybe even the whole world
in on it all

Gone;
is the laundry that Dad used as a darkroom
(his own hideaway)
the red lamp: a signal burning bright
summoning us to join his cause
Or be left behind

Gone;
is the hall door that was slammed for effect
Slammed over and over in a war that still wages on
Gone;
is the cube shower with the folding door
a place to cry without any sign
Gone;
Is the multi coloured lupins I planted in '96
hoping they would overtake all of the other ground
saying that YES I was here
and YES I was real
In.the.dirt.

But Dad is happy the Apple tree remains.
Kate
Written by
Kate  34/F
(34/F)   
527
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems