the house that i once called home, was now covered in the moss of my haunting memories. gathering courage i went inside, aware the demons might still roam the rooms that once were mine. i pushed the windows open, letting the gush of dusty air in. relieving the damage it carried for all this while. then walked upstairs, cautiously. the dead silence piercing my soul, reminding how lonely i still live. caressed the cracks of the broken mirror, where i once stood embracing my body. i turned to see footprints on the dirt covered carpet. followed them and ended up in the kitchen. amongst the filth of unuttered thoughts, and locked up words, shone the sugar and tea set, the kettle, and the cups. the stove was still scroched from the last blast. i started to prepare myself some tea, the leaves of which had a peculiar fragrance to it. i sat on the slab while the water boiled. looking out i noticed that the once dead, concrete roads had now turned into wild forest. so much had changed, from the last time i came. but my demons still preferred to hid from me. so i took my cup of tea, and sat at the window. this time waiting for the sun to go down and them to come out. no more games of hide and seek. no more annual retreats.