My door frame is easy to break
it bends in half,
if you blow on it
and there’s left over gum
in the cracks
from all of the ***** mouths
of people who tried
to blow my house in
(it’s probably because so many have gone
that allows for so many to come)
If the walls have any color,
please let me know
When you get inside you’ll see the floor
covered in thumbtacks
that have fallen
from the memories that were once pinned
to my walls
but have since blown away
by the same breaths that had blown in my door
(I wish I had the heart
to pin them
back up)
If the walls have any color,
please let me know
If you manage your way into my kitchen
you’ll find
tea bags
and charred kettles
that I used to burn my words
when my mouth got too hot
(I always mess things up when I speak)
If the walls have any color,
please let me know
Please excuse the honey
smeared to my furniture
it was used to make guests stick
who were anxious to leave
from the moment they arrived
(I think the scent of insecurity
wrapped in lavender oil
sickened them)
When fuming,
after the guests turn away
I gag myself
into my pink toilet bowel
to allow the memories,
that have rotted in my gut,
to roll out on to
my
tea stained tongue
So please use the bathroom upstairs
If the walls have any color,
please let me know
I do not live there anymore
I had to run away again,
to get away from these rooms
that once cradled my innocence
(the frame has grown weak from carrying such burdens)
If the walls have any color,
please let me know
you’ll find me underneath the floor boards
Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 9:50 PM UTC
My door frame is easy to break
it bends in half,
if you blow on it
and there’s left over gum
in the cracks
from all of the ***** mouths
of people who tried
to blow my house in
(it’s probably because so many have gone
that allows for so many to come)
If the walls have any color,
please let me know
When you get inside you’ll see the floor
covered in thumbtacks
that have fallen
from the memories that were once pinned
to my walls
but have since blown away
by the same breaths that had blown in my door
(I wish I had the heart
to pin them
back up)
If the walls have any color,
please let me know
If you manage your way into my kitchen
you’ll find
tea bags
and charred kettles
that I used to burn my words
when my mouth got too hot
(I always mess things up when I speak)
If the walls have any color,
please let me know
Please excuse the honey
smeared to my furniture
it was used to make guests stick
who were anxious to leave
from the moment they arrived
(I think the scent of insecurity
wrapped in lavender oil
sickened them)
When fuming,
after the guests turn away
I gag myself
into my pink toilet bowel
to allow the memories,
that have rotted in my gut,
to roll out on to
my
tea stained tongue
So please use the bathroom upstairs
If the walls have any color,
please let me know
I do not live there anymore
I had to run away again,
to get away from these rooms
that once cradled my innocence
(the frame has grown weak from carrying such burdens)
If the walls have any color,
please let me know
you’ll find me underneath the floor boards
