One last look at the place I lived the most.

window blinds,

illuminated

by streetlights outside

leave chessprint patterns

on my otherwise

blank walls

walls that used to be covered

in paintings, and posters,

album covers, and polaroid pictures,

and most of all life

now chessprint,

checkmate,

in a box somewhere.

my closet, used to

be filled with wrappers

and dreams

now completely

empty

except for space

holding all of my,

none of my,

valuable memories

in a week

all of these things

will be gone from

here,

my heart,

my home.

somewhere else,

ill be with them

and in a new room

they will

be put up again

but those chessprint

walls, will forever

hold my heart

Reviews

[Beren]

I loved this, I wrote something like this when I moved out of my old house and I thought I would never leave. Let me tell you something awful: I don't even notice it when I drive through that neighborhood now. I felt like a goddamned emotionless drama queen, but I guess life went on. It'll be here in your poems, it'll always be in your words and memories. and you will hold on better because you are a good writer