Lost Hotels

In my head there’s a lost hotel where memories live as tenants hid in rooms, locked, of course, yet sometimes light seeps out and I peep in to be greeted by an assortment of fairy tales based on my life based on the books I’ve read such as the first love I desperately wanted to forget, full of lingering longing I’ve long forgot except the feeling and that’s what the memories hold, nothing tactile, just feelings, emotions, that hinge like stuck food in the teeth and I move like a tongue trying to flick them out just for a last taste, but see the memories, they hide, they run, they lock their doors when I’m too close because they’re almost afraid but I loom, I am large, I am out of control, and I haunt, and only recently did I realize, in fact, if my mind is a lost hotel filled with memories as tenants, then I’m not the receptionist, not even the owner, in fact, if I am anything, I am the ghost.



Poetry by Sameen The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 12 times
Written on 2025-10-16 at 16:02

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text