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Final Goodbye
This is the room that I grew up in
The stench of old smoke, dirty laundry, and stale blood still hang heavily in the air
Glimmering dust motes gave it an ill-fitting celestial glow
Creaking bed springs and stalwart punches still resonate from the walls
-
The walls that have seen so many things, kept so many secrets, hidden so many lies
The walls, which have been my confidant through years of hardships
The walls, with their water stains and peeling paint, their bullet holes
Their battle wounds
-
The ceiling which sighs and sags with age
Succumbing to years of water damage
The backbone of the room bending far too much
I fear that it will
Snap
And crush me
-
The jagged teeth of the windows
Chew at the occasional leaf that blows in
Ripping the tender membrane to shreds
Like it’s done to my flesh innumerable times
-
The floors moan and groan
A pitiful lament, a sorrowful cry
With gaping mouths where boards should be
Ready to swallow me into the darkness
-
The cheap wooden door hangs by only one hinge
And I can only blame myself
For slamming it shut too hard too many times
-
This is the room that I grew up in
The single space to contain years of screams
The place where I condemned myself to my anguish
The place where my soul rotted and decayed
-
This was the room that I had stayed in
Past tense, being key.
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