Alone

I pull my key from my bag,

Insert it into the lock.

Click, it opens.

Stale air and the smell of a broken home

Fly into my nose.

The house is silent

Except for the 

dogs whimpering at the backdoor.

My tears uncontrollably 

Roll down my red face.

My knees fall to the floor 

In the despair of someone.

Desperate winds collide with

The comfort of home.

Being alone is so apparent to me.

I can’t run anymore.

My mother is dead 

In the next room.

Dead without a drop of blood.

My father somewhere.

Stranded on an island. 

Am I just a ghost?

Am I real?

Because I don’t know who I am anymore.

What I have become. 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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