the first house

i've lived in many houses

but none are like the house i grew up in

my memories scattered and returning in fragemented dreams

but one factor remains the same

the house smells like fresh laundry

that has been dried outside on a summer day

everything is in slow motion

and i only truly remmber the warmth

the sunshine as i ran into the backyard

that morphed into a fantastical plateau

but the edge always came

quicker than i expected

so i flew

my arms spread like wings

and the familiar californian sunset

blinded my right eye

it was always dark for a moment

before i awoke 

and felt comforted by what had been.