I went to my old home.

There were new pictures on the walls
No books on the shelves
It was the same
But different.

My room was still a bedroom
Same floor
Fancy bed
This person didn’t use
A mosquito net.

I wandered through
Kitchen to dining
Dining to sala
Sala to my parents bedroom.

Why was I here again?
I can’t remember.
I forgot.
I forget a lot.

For nostalgia?
It all looked the same
But different.

A tear dropped.
I was crying?
I laughed.
It makes no sense.
Why would I even care?

I smiled through the tears?
Maybe I grimaced.
I passed a mirror.

Maybe old homes haunt you.
That would be strange.
Wasn’t I to be the haunt


Author: xenia

Xenia (Greek: ξενία, xenía, trans. "guest-friendship") is the ancient Greek concept of hospitality, the generosity and courtesy shown to those who are far from home and/or associates of the person bestowing guest-friendship.

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