The House Remembered Me – Lyrics

The key still turned
though no one waited.

Dust on the rail.
Paint gone pale
where the blue frame used to be.

Third stair complained
under my left foot.

It always did.

I stood there listening.

The house remembered me
before I remembered who I was.

A pencil line
beside the window.

A year beside it.

I was smaller then.

I touched the mark.

Nothing happened.

No thunder.
No voice.

Just the radiator ticking.

And somehow
that was worse.

You were different then.

I had expected the past
to look smaller.

It didn’t.

I did.

The kitchen door
still carried that white scar.

One socket leaned sideways.

Nobody ever fixed it.

Outside, someone had planted
something by the fence.

I didn’t know its name.

I almost asked
what happened here.

Then I understood.

They could tell me
what happened to the house.

Not what happened to me.

Rooms don’t keep secrets.

They keep shapes.

A chair against a wall.
A hand against a door.

A body learning
how much space
it is allowed to take.

I used to fit here.

That’s not the same
as belonging.

The house remembered me.

I almost remembered him.

I left the key
on the kitchen counter.

Not for anyone.

I just didn’t need it anymore.

At the gate
I turned once.

Nothing moved.

Nothing called my name.

The house remembered me.

Before I did.