
i'll miss this hideout.
it sheltered us from the chilly bitter winter, chilled us from the sweltering heat.
warmth from the burning logs and within our souls.
we started virtually from nothing, and grew together like the damn weeds crowding our gardens.
my ears encounter your irritating "sweet" voice that echoes down the passageway,
the resounding concoction of blades and knives from killing sprees in dota,
the steady whirring fans and the weak beeps from the kitchen
the chirpy birds and the mysterious neighbor who strums away.
then the possums party all night long, scuffling from tile to tile above our heads,
and triggering the hazard lights periodically.
at the gates where the gallant looking mitsubishi rests with its silver lining,
trees and scrubs rooted proudly to greet the pathway,
and that dirty yellow chair remained untouched since we stepped in this year.
and because of this, kimberley wept under her blanket on her last night.
what a loser.
