It's been a year.
I look around.
I see that nothing has changed.
Except that it has.
Everything has.
People who were once called friends,
They are now strangers.
It's like meeting them for the first time.
But they're still the same.
Playing HALO 3 on the Xbox.
Giggling amongst themselves at their lame jokes.
Making fun of each other.
Yes, it's all the same.
Not just my friends,
But my family too has changed.
My sister, she has
Broken out of her tomboyish shell.
A young woman of 16,
Her actions seem obviously
More mature than mine.
My parents seem distant, stressed and cold.
What happened to the warmth, the love?
The warm hugs that used to make me feel safe
Cease to do so.
It seems robotic,
Forced onto me by societal norms.
Everything seems so dry and shrivelled up.
Home isn't home anymore.
I look at the walls.
They are clothed now
With posters of movies and TV shows.
Large and small,
They advertise, propagate.
They lure customers in.
Success will be theirs forever.
The once blank wall
Leaves no room for creative wonder.
It is quite stifling in this room.
It feels more boxier,
Defined.
Except for that one rectangle of comfort
That shall always be mine.
My bed.
The one thing that hasn't changed.
Still comfortable,
With pleasant dreams and
Moon rays falling in through the window.
And then it hits me.
What if it isn't the room that's changed?
Or my parents, sister or friends?
What if it's me?
Home isn't home anymore.
No comments:
Post a Comment