Home.

When I walk into my home, 

My house lights are turned off. 

The T.V usually turned on,

A dull reflection of my face,

Staring back into it’s black screen.

My house not quite in disarray,

Definitely feels

As if five of it’s members moved far, far, away,

And haven’t been home in a long time.

Smiling photos,

Collect dust.

Rooms once full,

Vacant of any recent memory.

Once I put my bag down

I take off my shoes.

I grab the remote

Turn on the T.V.

Open all the windows,

Pretending everyone is home again. 

Lights on.