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Your home will shatter Emotionally not physically The wood panels still fused But your security dissipated Dishes still in the kitchen sink But your routine in shards You will pack up Backpack up on your back And down on the ground In your new compound You will attempt to create anew And you will But it is unlike before It will never be like before So you will try a return You will, desperately, Grasping for breath, Ride your bike to that old gate That old entrance to that previous exit But I regret to inform you, It is no longer your home He might invite you in but only to see a new couch Some other woman is in the groove But it’s not even the one you once made The bathroom will look the same Same  portrait Same book on top of the toilet But a new towel hangs And it’s no longer the perfume of your shampoo filling the room I am so sorry but You will feel like you are in a bad dream Everything is familiar Everything is yours in a no longer tucked away memory It is still real if you open it and prolong it It is still yours in some existence Where that moment froze and never stopped But it is changed At the same exact time It is hurdling forward as fast as it is still It is as foreign as it is memorized Everything is off on the same track I am sorry but you can never go home
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Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 3:55 PM UTC
Crying In Our Old Front Yard
Your home will shatter Emotionally not physically The wood panels still fused But your security dissipated Dishes still in the kitchen sink But your routine in shards You will pack up Backpack up on your back And down on the ground In your new compound You will attempt to create anew And you will But it is unlike before It will never be like before So you will try a return You will, desperately, Grasping for breath, Ride your bike to that old gate That old entrance to that previous exit But I regret to inform you, It is no longer your home He might invite you in but only to see a new couch Some other woman is in the groove But it’s not even the one you once made The bathroom will look the same Same  portrait Same book on top of the toilet But a new towel hangs And it’s no longer the perfume of your shampoo filling the room I am so sorry but You will feel like you are in a bad dream Everything is familiar Everything is yours in a no longer tucked away memory It is still real if you open it and prolong it It is still yours in some existence Where that moment froze and never stopped But it is changed At the same exact time It is hurdling forward as fast as it is still It is as foreign as it is memorized Everything is off on the same track I am sorry but you can never go home
TheThrillofaSpin
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Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 3:55 PM UTC
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