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I remember Home.
Home.
I remember you, so clearly and freshly inside my mind,
all most as if, it was a painting, still wet.
The colors, so vibrant, so bold, some bland, and cold.
I remember you, the way you smelled, like
a juicy crisp turkey roasting in the oven for the holidays,
a Yankee Candle, burning till there is no wick left,
a smell of a mans colan, due to the many room mates we once had.
I remember you, the way everything was placed so carefully inside your walls,
places, and never re-arranged due to a Fathers hatred of loseing things.
I remember you, the way you looked in the morning and at night,
how bright it was in my room,when the light shined threw the blinds,
how dark it seemed to be in side the house, even we the sun was up,
cause the curtains remained closed for many reasons.
how dark, the house was, when it was nightime, how the navy carpeted floors blended into the blackness.
I remember you, the room that i lived in,
how the walls had few decorations, nothing to bright, or dark,
nothing to leave a mark.
how the room was arranged, and ment to stay,
how the closet was my hid out, the place i hid myself away,
on the top shelf, up high, and to hide behind the closed metal doors.
How my bed had a wooden frame, how the window was on myside of the room
how i cried at night, and layed my chin on the marble window frame.
Praying to God to take me away.
I remember you Home, so freshly and clearly,
even though iv moved away,
your still wet, inside my mind,
i can only hope the paint doesnt rub away.
