You smell the bacon cooking on the stove.
You hear your siblings bickering over the remote,
like they always do.
You hear dad in the garage working on his Plymouth
Reliant, with no floor in the passenger side
and a plastic back window.
Hes always working on that thing.
You hear the family pet Bennie chasing butterflies in
the backyard.
You see the tire swing in the big oak in the front yard.
You smile, feeling at home.
Feeling yourself being wrapped in warmth and love.
You walk to the front door
prepared to knock.
As you raise your hand,
you wake up.
The image fades to a yellow ceiling.
It felt so real.
But it hasn't been real for years.
They're all gone.
Forever.
You lay back down and hope your pillow muffles
your sobs.