Mourning Skies

Stranger

He walked in the house
Ran his fingers down the walls
As if to claim the place I called home
And repeal it's title
Peeling back the wallpaper
He made his presence known
Like an animal
Marking it's territory
That this house
Was now his

And as I wander these now empty halls
Marks of my past seem to be
Stripped and bleached out
The line of my height as a child
To every stray pen mark
That I was scolded for

And now the marks escalated
To bruises knuckles
Through drywall
But for some reason he allows
To remain and prosper
Just to show them
How malicious and dark
I've become
But he forgets that there is beauty
In permanent marker

My living room now feels
Like a funeral home
And each couch is an open casket
I feel like my reprieve
Is drawing to the end
As the last two years
Remain in the hourglass

They count down the moments
Until they are rid of me
Even the one who seemingly
Protected my art pieces on the walls
Now dulls them and covers them
Leaving them blurry messes
As if tried to be messily scrubbed off
With an eraser

Now the great white walls
Of that farm house
Only hold marks of my angry fist

My room became my home
The only place I was welcome
Because to the rest of the walls
I was nothing
But a stranger