where my home once was

 i dont know if it was love,

or something softer, something rough.

i dont know if you cared for me,

or if it was only make believe.

yet there was once a space

where my stories could arrive

without disguise,

and the weight i carried

could finally loosen.

now the space is shuttered.

the walls remember,

but they do not speak.

i walk its absence

like a man without a map.

perhaps it was never love,

perhaps it was never meant

still, the hollow remains

a room once lit,

now only shadow.