hollow

everything is different now

where i once lived in excess

covered walls, covered tabletops

too many books, too many things

now i live hollow

nothing on the walls, nothing on the tabletops

not enough books, not enough things

no longer have i the comfort of what i was

only the hum of the air conditioning and the press of the too-close ceiling

choking me

drowning me

my old friends, old lovers, they are now replaced with new versions

they are not the same as i left them

where once i wouldve wrapped an arm, i remain rooted in place

even the city seems different

what once was bright and new is dark and unwelcoming

no longer open arms and a fond smile

the streets are full of memories

these streets that felt like home, no longer want me

go home?