19 Different Homes

I’ve lived in 19 different homes so far. I leave behind a little piece of me in every home. I crumble it and blow it with my breath so the little particles mingle with the dust specks and settle into the walls.

Every time I move I fill the hole left behind in me with a deep breath. I suck in the air and let it fill out the empty spot until it’s full again. I now carry with me the smell of the dirt and the walls of all the places I’ve lived, little pockets that expand and contract when I breathe.

Someone moves in into every house I leave behind. I unzip and leave it in a heap on the ground. They step in, pull it up their heads and zip up.

My scent from yesterday lingers longer than they want. They can’t make it fit like they want. It doesn’t feel lived in or truly theirs for months or years.

They breathe in parts of me every night, little by little, until I possess their body. They go about their day as themselves but every now and then they laugh at something they never found funny. They long for something they never thought they wanted. 

They lay awake at night silently spiralling and asking the why, the how, the what. And there I am, a little speck in their mind, whispering back. A voice that sounds like their own but the words that don’t. 

Paired Listening

Keep the Streets Empty for Me – Fever Ray

From the Five Part Body Playlist