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Storage Room

Contributed by ediii on Saturday, 13th October 2007 @ 06:04:37 PM in AEST
Topic: drugabuse

Living in a dream
with squibbly spirals serpenting through the wiggles of my conscience.

I wake up in the dark
in the silence.
Alone.
Every morning I wish to wake
in a warm embrace of skin on skin,
bathing me in the aura of
the sense of belonging.

An old lonely building
glaring at the tourists with smashed glass eyes;
And heaps of rubble inside,
longs to be owned,
cared for,
renewed.
Like a baby.

Glassy eyes I close
as I examine the mess
I stuffed into the room I own.
Inside me,
Boxes full of fragile feelings.
Stacks of emotions filed by title.
Moods on coat hangers ranging according to colors.
Desires and Needs stuffed in a drawer
- long, tangled, colorful scarves.
Finally, in a glass counter case there is a substance.
Fluid, silky, grey.
Memories on display.

An old lonely building
glaring at the tourists with smashed glass eyes;
And heaps of rubble inside,
longs to be owned,
cared for,
renewed.
Like a baby.

Copyright © ediii ... [ 2007-10-13 18:04:37]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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