poemday

Oh. This basement is cold. Dark and dank
and all the things you'd expect a basement to be.
Darling, I was quiet before, but now I'll be frank
with you. You deserve the honesty.
I'm buried in this blanket.

I'm walking away from the scene. That car crash
disaster area; that dream I had of rolling and rolling
and not dying. Some mad dash
to the life I was looking for. The one with meaning.
Credit or cash?

Here I am now. The wind is talking to me,
ambiguously, subtly, the wisest sound
is the delicacy of the wind chimes. Chaotic harmony
Now, look at me! Crawling up, soon to be found
Walking and walking until I'm seen.