A frozen frame in time displayed by the now cold mirror that clings to the memories
As if I see my younger self when I look at it
As it’s yesterday for the air in there to smell
As if I am the life of the house

The corners of the house speak to me
The me that is trapped in the freedom of these walls
The me that is flowing in the stagnant air inside the closed windows
The me that is me

The doors spy upon me
Every step I take opens an old chapter of time
Every breath I take the walls close up on me
Every moment I recall I discover myself

This house lives on me, as I tend to walk away
The silence shouts my laughter from ages
The dull lights showcase my bright face from ages
I can still smell the fresh leaves of lime that tell me how rotten I am

This house
This house tells me tales
Tells me tales
The tales of me
The me
The me of this house
This house