Black rain coat, black rubber boots, grey sky, red balloon.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be, you said,
but this is life, this is the way you come back to the place that should've been home--
You don't fill your days with what ifs anymore, knowing that they can't fill you.
Through the rain you look around,
the large shed, which drank the sky's blue, still stands off to the side of the house,
the house, still stands before you, tentatively asserting that it is the one from your memories, that of all the things that slide away and shift into indifference, it has not.
Your belief wavers,
but a little girl who looks like longing gingerly steps outside your soul takes you by the hand and leads you in,
as you let the red balloon go.