Glancing at You

I see it's dark shape in the dark room

And feel empty

When it arrived, in this room, the house was full

This room, where my brother and I shared a bunk bed

Before he grew up here, while I read and cried and dreamed down the hall

My little sister across the way. My mother close by, who I will not mention

This is the room I shared with my love

The room she made beautiful, while I fell apart inside, safe only in this bed by her side in the still before sleep

When the guest bed arrived in this room, hauled in peices from next door - up the stairs and along the hall-

The room was empty again. Had been empty for some time - I saw it's walls anew with resigned pain

But it was about to be full. With guests, seeping back in

Bodies under one roof. Lights flickering in windows

For now the house is quiet again. Has been quiet so long, all rooms empty but this room

And I'll be alone for some time it seems

I look at the superfluous guest bed, and it's embarrassment acuses me

Used to be sweet. Used to be open, wide eyed. Used to laugh at all of the nonsense.

Not anymore. I see a raggedy dressing gown and slippers and dirty coffee cup in my future. The dull eyed glare of the disenfranchised.

My comfort, you stopped me from floating away. That reasuring rasp of rusted iron against my skin.

No longer afraid of the big blue beyond... No longer left to wonder.. who am I? What will I do? Where will I go?