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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #2172858
The last goodbye is always the hardest
Today, I said farewell to the house
containing my childhood and countless memories
inseparable from the brick and mortar
holding up the weathered relic

I held the keys, entrusted to me by my father
who wanted nothing to do with it
To him, it was a chain weighted around his neck
and he wanted to be freed.

Each room is cold and empty
a stark contrast from the vibrant past
treasured belongings draping the floors and walls
now only the ghosts remain

I run my hands over familiar cracks
knowing each scar as if it were my own
Smiling sadly at the scrapes and dents
Knowing which ones were mine

The kitchen lies vacant and lonely
no pots or pans to keep it company
our stove is cleaner than it ever was
free of grease and cookie crumbs

I open the door to my old bedroom
Tacks from old posters still in the walls
faint outlines from where furniture sat
and now only dust bunnies live here

Every stair creaks, and I know each one
All the good hiding spots for secret things
Where to go when you want to be alone
I know every inch of this house

I stop in the living room, the heart of the home
The carpet is now stained from countless feet
Ashes lie in a dead fireplace
I softly place my keys on the mantle.

This is it, I say
Time to go now
But my feet won't listen
It isn't time to say goodbye

Isn't it ironic
We all hated living here
And yet, we loved it
Time is a curious thing.

Opening the door, I take one last long look.
It is so quiet, but I can still hear the cries
the shouts, the laughter, the fights
There is something I cannot swallow

I shut the door before my hands betray me
And stand there on the porch
Wondering about who will live here
Maybe they will love this place like I do

I will never forget you, old friend.
As I leave, I look up into a bleak sky
To me, it looks like a blank canvas
A sign for new beginnings



© Copyright 2018 Ray Scrivener (rig0rm0rtis at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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