Comparison

Sabrina McClune

I cannot help but compare two buildings;
this lonely place I lay awake in,
to the one I used to sleep in.

Mostly,
I remember the garden
that was not a garden.
When I was short and smiling,
I would lay deep in the towering grass
and imagine a forest heave itself
from the worm filled dirt,
to shelter me from my day dreams.

Then,
I remember the bedroom
that was not a bedroom.
When I was taller and sighing,
I would lay gently on my rumpled covers,
and watch the comforting blink
of distant headlights,
and imagine them earth bound stars.

Now?
I have another garden.
I have another bedroom.
For now I am tall and silent,
my garden is filled with stone
and my bedroom filled with darkness.

I cannot help but compare two buildings;
One a house,
One a home.

Aged 19

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