Houses

I have always dreamt

at least since a very long time

of a cute little house just for myself,

To paint the walls with stories written in the form of pictures,

Of furniture that fits my tiny size,

With windows where I can sit alone,

Listening to music or reading a book;

A house to myself, in which perhaps one day I can roam around naked.

But today,

You all have gone for some work

This house, right now, is mine

Yet I sit here fully clothed

Not near a window, but tied to my room

Because I have no one to tell my stories to

And I can’t inform anyone of the sudden realization I had-

I hate empty houses.