After All These Years

Here I am after all these years

Sleeping one last time in the bed that holds the dreams of the person I used to be.

I hope the floorboards of this house echo the clef of my laughter,

my sisters,

my mothers,

my best friends

for the generations of youth yet to come and sleep, cry, laugh, and love in the same spots.

These glass mirrors have seen a million versions of a girl.

One who tried her hardest not to look in it,

to one who smiles at it.

How can a simple floor plan turn into a home?

How can the life I've lived here possibly become just a memory?

I hope a piece of me lives on in the rust of the nails,

forever,

so I can feel,

remember,

what it was like to once roam the halls.

What’s so special about it

is that these walls gush and bleed with the truth of life:

you have to experience it in order to truly feel it.