years later and it doesn’t feel the same we are missing one and a million unspoken words whispering of a different past barrage these four walls with every passing day the ghost of happiness lingers here among rearranged furniture and empty walls everything is the same and nothing ever could be again was this how it was meant to end? did it turn out just right or is everything all wrong? are we forging our way to happiness or shattering breaking, four separate entities careening apart in the wake of an ended childhood marriage future same four walls and yet it could never be so. when does a house stop being a home?
the ghost of memories
Published
House of my Soul 