The Apartment

I sit on the floor of an empty apartment
Without furniture the space seems endless
The floor, partially dust covered
Traces of late night dancing with heels too high
These walls, now bare stripped.
Used to surround, warm and embrace
Used to hide, fear and ignore
These walls, saw it all
Art and photographs in cardboard boxes piled in the hallway
Memories packed away
This place carries the best and the worst
Once a place called home, sweet home
Once a place called hell, damn hell
Window sill now pale
Used to sit and capture the last ray of sun on a warm summer’s night
Used to sit and stare at the same sun feeling no warmth
It is daunting to realize
What a paradox one’s life is.


3 thoughts on “The Apartment

  1. i felt this way when we boxed up my friend’s house a few years ago. once a house with history and life, now 51 years of life boxed up in storage. very sad, really.

      1. i agree. i still live next door to his house. it has been sold and the new owners are in the process of getting ready to tear it down. i am in the process of looking for a new place to live – I hope I am gone before that happens. I lived in his house for 6 years. Lots of memories.

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