through different eyes

I look at that closet
differently now. that chest of drawers,
that door,
that clock,
that rug I walk upon.
I see the walls
in a different light,
the windows too.
the way the fan turns,
its swing and hum at night.
I see the world through different
eyes now.
for better or worse
I've swallowed whole the past,
drank all that I could
of what was, I've quenched
my thirst.
and now I go with nothing,
a cleansing and
enduring fast.