The house smelt uncanny.

The clock stuck thirteen, 

I could smell freshly burnt cigarettes

but my dad didn't smoke

and ma had probably only seen them once before. 

The tea was too sweet that day, 

the kind that tries hard to make up for something that didn't seem to stay. 

Familiar gazes flinched at the mere thought of meeting

Arguments were won

at the stake of casualties, 

not one soul retreating. 

I had a chance 

to steal a glance

in a recording of frozen memories. 

Somehow, somewhere I knew

no matter what I saw

it would be too late to withdraw. 

The space behind my shut door was my refuge, 

deafening music from my pc tried outshouting thoughts that crashed like meteors, 

like a paperboat trying to make a difference in a deluge. 

As time enveloped me

I unlearnt the urge to forsee

because the most beautiful things in life never come with a guarantee. 

When I felt a wave brush past my toes, 

I realized that it was always me that they chose. 

They meant the world to me, 

and this moronic smile of mine

that makes my eyes look babylike, 

was all they ever wanted to see. 

Some nights I wonder, 

maybe my nose was acting funny

maybe the house didn't smell uncanny.