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kat-7Poems
the room is bursting flattened from silver and bronze nostalgia walls framing a time we celebrated our shelves should be empty the house is splitting at the seams and corners alcoholic lucid dreams clinking, clanking in the backseat the heart monitor keeping time counting down breath left in this house like a smoke alarm we got rid of the swing set swaying back and forth every last bit of life growing old or blowing smoke growing up in a cobweb hall the portrait of my parents sliding down the wall.
0
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 12:06 AM UTC
bone house, mean house
the room is bursting flattened from silver and bronze nostalgia walls framing a time we celebrated our shelves should be empty the house is splitting at the seams and corners alcoholic lucid dreams clinking, clanking in the backseat the heart monitor keeping time counting down breath left in this house like a smoke alarm we got rid of the swing set swaying back and forth every last bit of life growing old or blowing smoke growing up in a cobweb hall the portrait of my parents sliding down the wall.
kat-7
Written by
kat-7
American
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 12:06 AM UTC
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