Please Let Me Come Home Again

I know there is no home to go back to.

I know.

But please.

Just once.

Let me open the door
and find everyone still alive.

Let the house still be the house.

Let me hear the voices
I didn’t know I would spend the rest of my life
trying to remember.

Give me one ordinary day
I didn’t know to be grateful for.

I won’t ask for anything.

I won’t complain.

I won’t even stay long.

I just want to stand there again
before everything happened.

Before people became photographs.

Before places became memories.

Before home became a word
for somewhere I can never go.

Please.

I know I’m asking for the impossible.

But I have been good about losing it.

I have carried it.

I have survived it.

Haven’t I done enough?

Please let me come home again.

I promise this time
I’ll know I’m leaving.