Familiar Place

A familiar place with a distinct smell,
burnt down cigarettes and tire grease as far as I could tell,
clashing with the cent of sprayed febreze, 
power again almost took me to my knees,
with it's same old sounds,
police alarms and voices simulating from all around,
taste of bitter blown smoke,
with the after mass of a sip of coke.
I've been here once before,
I even recognize the white trim outlining the front door,
the cold touch on the tile floor,
the sheets covering the windows that I could not ignore. 
I remember muggy air,
and the feeling of him running his fingers through my hair. 
It's all coming back like a rain fall of lost time,
The soft whisper of wind blowing the wind chime,
A familiar place but why,
memories leave details that don't identify,
I guess a familiar place is all it will be,
with the details that are all just a mystery,
of my memory.