Home is Where the Heart is

February 12, 2011
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I remember coming home to a beautiful home
that I grew up in
I remember playing dress-up, pretending to be a princess or a ballerina.
There was always something new every day.
Eating melted chocolate ice cream
on the patio steps on hot summer nights.
Playing pretend in my magic tent I could always
escape to.
I remember planting flowers of many kinds on the patio,
shovel in hand.
I remember my sister and I doing fashion poses on the patio.
Our colorful beach towels on our wet hair, from a day
in our kiddie pool.
Jumping super high on my trampoline in the backyard,
as if I was superman.
Creepy crawly nights when I would scrunch up in a ball under my cozy blankets, wishing away
the night sounds.
I remember the FOR SALE sign in the front yard that cracked a hole in my heart.
The “I don’t want to move’s.” and the
“Please let us stay.”
The moving day, loading up boxes in the U-Haul.
Family members scrambling,
trying to help load up the truck.
I remember looking out the back window of the car.
Tears streaming down my face as I
said good-bye to the
house that built me.

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