because I haven’t written about home in years

by remembertoexhale

I haven’t been to my home town in about four years
the last time I was there
I got into my childhood room
by breaking one of the panes of glass in the french doors that  led onto our pool
I was on a mission to retrieve something. 
I was so busy fitting myself through the small space of glass
that I only noticed how different it was
after my whole body was through
instead of moving along quickly
I sat and stared a while
where my vintage wardrope was,
with the floor length mirror
was a shelf
with some hindi god or other
it smelled sickeningly sweet
and flower wreaths adorned the mini shrine 
the walls which I had painted
pop tart lime green
with posters of punk bands and beyonce 
were now beige
in place of my rainbow single bed covered with scatter cushions I had fabric painted or embroidered
was a queen sized bed
with a canopy
that belonged to a fat teenage boy
I eventually
found myself army crawling
down the passage to the kitchen
so as not to start the alarms in the house
and as I got into the kitchen
the alarms went off
signalling an intruder
and I did what I came to
flipped the switch
and broke the next window getting out

 

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