A home full of little voices...
That reminds you of the remnants.
The laughter in the hall.
The love making- everywhere.
The baby who poo'ed everywhere.
The vomit that was cleaned with Harpic left a few marks on the marble.
The violin squeaking, banging and then slowly falling into a simple tune.
The cooker whistles.
The toilet flush.
The aloe vera plant that amazingly survived 8 months without water. The dead plants.
The meals. The happy meals. The hard tears.
The financially difficult times. the fights.
Eventually the break up itself.
Remainders of an empty house as you walk... Is like mocking a killed bird.
A portion of me is largely gone.. And yet made space for new things. Hope.
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