Childhood home

Childhood Home

Soon I go home to a place
where the smell of soup filled
the air and meatballs filled
the soup. A place where

I bickered with brothers
who ironed out the wrinkles
in my ego and be the
mirror to show that

I am just their sister,
who loved chocolate
too much in a place
where we all knew the

pattern of the wallpaper
hugging the wall, which
didn’t have ears, like our
mother made us believe,

so it can’t tell tales of the past
seen from different angles,
as we used to snuggle in
different nooks of the nest