12-16-2014, 12:18 PM
The dimly lit room overgrown with dusted memories
she wasn't able to let go of never provided
much warmth or company. Stacked stained
works of fiction fenced in her thoughts upon
the better lives of friends she accumulated.
She was content to keep her past restrained.
The cold droll of fall had crept through
overnight, and although her life left
her numb she still sensed urgency
in her attic as new guests scratched
and gnawed a winter nest from her
house's cables, insulation, and vents.
The shrieks and squeals of guests
concealed gave her comfort and conversation
she had always wanted. She tried her best
to be a gracious host; desperate to maintain
the melody of life her new friends offered.
She was grateful just to hum along.
On particularly cold nights she could hear
the threatening howl of northeastern wind
whipping past doors her guests had made
in the eves of her attic. She would gently lift away
the attic door to let her warmth rise to the attic;
providing comfort to her most trusted companions.
Every evening after prayer she would force
herself away from the safety of family and home.
She would timidly greet a world of sneers
while walking crookedly to the corner store
where she could retrieve the bare essentials:
yellow potatoes, aspirin tablets, and a packet of peanuts.
Walking back past the pawnshop she would hear
drunken laughter and thumping music tumbling out
of a nearby bar which at one time she frequented
religiously. The muffled crumple of snow beneath
her feet helped set the pace past the danger lurking
behind the bar's luring entrance. Sometimes she fell behind.
she wasn't able to let go of never provided
much warmth or company. Stacked stained
works of fiction fenced in her thoughts upon
the better lives of friends she accumulated.
She was content to keep her past restrained.
The cold droll of fall had crept through
overnight, and although her life left
her numb she still sensed urgency
in her attic as new guests scratched
and gnawed a winter nest from her
house's cables, insulation, and vents.
The shrieks and squeals of guests
concealed gave her comfort and conversation
she had always wanted. She tried her best
to be a gracious host; desperate to maintain
the melody of life her new friends offered.
She was grateful just to hum along.
On particularly cold nights she could hear
the threatening howl of northeastern wind
whipping past doors her guests had made
in the eves of her attic. She would gently lift away
the attic door to let her warmth rise to the attic;
providing comfort to her most trusted companions.
Every evening after prayer she would force
herself away from the safety of family and home.
She would timidly greet a world of sneers
while walking crookedly to the corner store
where she could retrieve the bare essentials:
yellow potatoes, aspirin tablets, and a packet of peanuts.
Walking back past the pawnshop she would hear
drunken laughter and thumping music tumbling out
of a nearby bar which at one time she frequented
religiously. The muffled crumple of snow beneath
her feet helped set the pace past the danger lurking
behind the bar's luring entrance. Sometimes she fell behind.