Poetry · Writing

same problem – different day

and it is always me

caught in the darkest corner of my mind

wandering aimlessly destroying the structure that wasn’t

in the last invasion claiming the lives of more innocent thoughts-

i can put down the knife but i can’t hide it

when i am not looking, i will continue to cut and stab and kill

until this home is a crime scene;

there are only a few calm moments

a voice that sends me, the other me

running- running to a place i have yet to evict

to a place he calls home that has it all put together

but

when i am gone:

picket fence repainted

door mat dusted

time for books to be placed back on the shelf

photo albums rebound

dinner in the oven

albums placed next to the sega genesis

and

i

can

breathe

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s