To The Home You Miss, But Can Never Return To

Home once used to be a place, not just the absence of memory.

By

Oleg Oprisco
Oleg Oprisco

Imagine if instead of remembering

things from the moment we were

born, we remembered everything till

the point of birth

imagine remembering the warmth of

the womb but not

the coldness of the world outside,

imagine remembering the peace,

the stillness of the placenta, but

not the chaos of bones at war,

bodies in angry riots, hearts in

a flaming mess which can’t be

saved, can’t be salvaged

now imagine remembering home

left behind, maple trees quivering in

anticipation of your homecoming,

fences creaking in wait of your arrival,

grass growing through the cracks of

the sidewalk for you to wet your soles

on, and a roof, broken but surviving the

harshest winters, the screaming rains

for you to come and seek shelter from

now imagine knowing, there

is no going back to the way

things were, before you

stopped remembering

where you come from,

before you stopped remembering

home once used to be a place, not

just the absence of memory. Thought Catalog Logo Mark


About the author

Nilesh Mondal

Nilesh Mondal, 23, is an engineer by choice and writer by chance. He works as writer and curator at Terribly Tiny Tales, and as prose editor for Moledro Magazine.