Poem: Echoes

These walls:

Cold, accusing,

home. 

Its structure

more familiar to me

than my own face. 

In them

reflected

echoes of someone

I have not known. 

The loneliness here:

normalized. 

And hate - a friend

now embodied.

Those words I cursed,

echoed,

into myself;

ingested, indigestible.

Then one concerted movement

and: empty.

And this wall

reflects heat from the sun,

bits of forgiveness,

and something bold,

unquenchable. 

The other side,

foreign;

Yet I suspect

echoes of this voice there

to carry

the wind.

-me