My Small House

My old life came knocking at my door
Hesitantly, I welcomed it in
My small room grew even smaller
The old life did not come alone
It brought the pages of my past along
The pages looked crumpled and old
But I had no trouble reading the blur lines
Etched on my mind and heart
All those lines became voices
I needed to blur it all
I needed it to fade away
I closed my eyes shut
The faces became clearer
My hand sought the cigarette packet
Unsteady hands lighted the match
The smoke around my nostrils now
Failed to blanket me
I killed the cigarette finally
Pushed the door open
Left my old life alone in my small house ..