Adults

April 19, 2013
By TheMasterWagner SILVER, Greenville, South Carolina
TheMasterWagner SILVER, Greenville, South Carolina
8 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"If you give a man a match, he'll be warm for a minute. Set a man on fire and he'll be warm for the rest of his life."


The visits to my house grow few
in number, and yet—
I am happy to be home for a while.
As I climb the stairs to the porch,
I feel like a stranger
or a weary traveler, coming to a
place of safety—
refuge from the storm.
It saddens me when Buddy comes to greet me,
and he whimpers hesitantly,
as though he isn’t sure
who I am.
I pet him, and take the key from under
the door mat. Inside, the house is warm,
inviting, though it seems foreign to me,
no longer my home, but a once-familiar place
I remember as a child.
A memory, whose halls I now walk, and remember walking.
There is a distant feeling of intimacy,
like I dream I can’t
quite recall.
I make a sandwich, and wait for
Mom to come home from work.
I sigh, forgetting where the
silverware drawer is.
I go my room and stretch myself across my
bed. Too hard, now—too long unslept in.
The room itself is undisturbed—just as I left it:
books alphabetical, blinds pulled up half way,
spare clothes folded and resting
on the dresser. Everything is perfect—too clean and
arranged. I want there to be chaos, some sign
that a teenage girl
once lived in this room.
But as I look around again, I feel detached,
as though this place no longer belongs to
me, shares my secrets, holds my pain and
joy and struggles, knows my every thought
and childish fantasy.
I sit up when I hear a car in the driveway. I know
Mom will come through the door
in a moment and we will hug,
and go to the living room, and sit on the couch
and cross our legs, and drink tea, and laugh,
and talk of adult things.


The author's comments:
As I continue to live at boarding school, get a job away from home, and such things, I find myself becoming more and more distant from my house and my family, and so this is a bit of a letting go poem for me--an acceptance of my maturity and total departure as an adult next year.

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