Shelter

Comforting are the walls you're closest to.
Firm and towering they hold all the light you require.
Like a blanket they warm you with familiarity.
A temperamental relationship
to bring shelter
or close in on you.
Most would say it's a matter of perception
but those of us witnessing the mood swings know better.
There are no eyes to be seen but still they watch.
Holding up the ceiling but ready to drop it at a moments notice.
Like the light outside the window
the walls sometimes burn bright
or hang heavy like gray sunless days.
The objects inside the walls with you are in on the whole thing
whether they serve a use or lay neglected
they taunt and trick you into defenselessness.
I cannot trust the buttons and switchs
not even the very chair beneath me is innocent.
A gathering of electronic devices and appliances like links in the chain holding you there.
Audible indicators alert you of their presence
but keep your responses neutral for the ever watching walls
could tumble at anytime.

The people at the Laundromat.

I stand outside and smoke cigarettes watching them all inside.
They wander around with their laundry and their kids.
Two little kids sharing a large broken down reclining chair reading a book they found on a shelf.
They look like they don't want to be here but they do not have a choice and they need their clothes washed.
The staff walk around carefree as the people come and go.
Outside the air is cool and the streets are frenzied with cars and people.
Coming and going from fast food drive throughs, coffee spots and late night pizza places.
The people moving around seem low class.
Why are they out right now?
Where are they going?
Why are they going?
I stand at a distance from them all and I can't help judging them even though I'm one of them.
I always have been.
I don't want to talk to them and divert eye contact whenever I can.
I'm just on a count down to dry clothes.
More come into the place but I stay outside.
I know there are no conversation waiting for me inside.
The large flat screen TV hanging from the ceiling seems to distract some of the people but no one stares to long. It's hard to watch TV in a place like this when you have to keep an eye on the comers and goers.
The place is constantly being cleaned yet everything is filthy.
They very air makes my skin itchy.
I cannot wait to leave.
It's strange being in a place that I can't wait to leave knowing I will certainly be back in only a few days.
I will see some of the same people and I will never know them.
The same overnight staff will be there with their miserable faces.
The Winter is coming and I know the company there will be getting worse as the weather gets colder.
The unwanted will gather there everynight to stay warm not to wash their dirty clothes that their wearing.
One of them will come up to me and ask for a cigarette or a dollar.
I usually oblige.
This will usually get rid of them quickly ending the conversation they use to work up the courage to ask for a cigarette or a dollar.
Despite how badly I feel for these people I do not want to be around them.
No one does and they know it.
It's not Winter yet so for now it will be these regulars I'll ignore.
I'll ball up my clothes,stuff them in my basket and I'll drive home.

Swell

You don't feel a vibration in your feet.
No sound.
Just bright sunshine
and blue sky
clouds.
Then your tiny hairs are straightend out
over your shoulder comes the colossal wave
ocean water blotting out the sun.
You manage one step but freeze to see the ground
smothered in the suffocating shadow.
You should take your last breath
gasp instead.
It's over you and all around you.
The pressure seals your ears as the atmosphere becomes backbreaking.
The gaping toothless mouth closes around you like a vise.
Crushed.
The life explodes out of you as the earth and sea collide.
Then it's done.
The shoreline is changed
like new
like you were never there.

Impenetrate

The days have finally mounted against me.
The armor shows weakness and it bleeds.
Sadness not hubris is the ugliest of the ego.
All the me's and I's should be destroyed but the mind wouldn't dare let such a thing happen.
The mind has no time for progress but won't pass up seeding pain soaked soil.
Sprinkling memories like tiny knives downward spinning for the heart.
Every surface becomes an enemy and familiarity is the blade at your throat forcing you to watch.
The behemoth took the slings and arrows better than most but fell faster than the smirk glowered on his face.
Tiny punctures slowly bled the beast.
The surprised look never had a chance to surface as the implosion took place behind stonewall defenses unused.
The smiles of the relentless onlookers burned away the shuttering flesh as the running blood satisfied the unappreciated ground.
If at this point you're confused or unimpressed. It's ok, this isn't for you.
These are the words carved on my bones.
Unfreed they'll drag me to my grave.

Diptera

I hate the tiny flies but I know they feed the spiders.
I never see the spiders but I know they're there.
I see their webs and I'm reminded of the places I barely look to and havent touched in some time.
I watch them collect dust and stretch and droop lifeless.
I open a window to let in the light.
Maybe the Sun will smile upon these walls through the glass.
The warm light fills every inch of visible space only showing the threadbare paths of routine cutting through the unused spaces.
I look upon the meager surroundings and think "I have too much."
I like to sit, so this chair is all I need.
I need to sleep, so the bed will stay too.
The cupboards seem painted on the wall and the stove would be a half remembered dream if I didn't see it everyday.
I only require a tiny space yet little piles gather.
Unopened mail, things that gather in my pockets now gather on the table.
I see them and I know I don't need them.
They were important at one time, now I don't know.
I should throw them away but I might need them one day.
I'll put them in a bag and stash them in the closet.
Deal with them later.
Used up items gather in the normal places.
Doomed for the garbage they sit and wait.
Drawing the tiny flies.

Toll roads ahead.

Passed by a crossroads
I did not change direction
Decided to wait for the next one
The road underfoot wrong but comfortable will suffice for now
I've chewed my nails away and everything hurts to the touch
I've been here before
I'll wait again
For another path
Another pass
Another clearing
Forward march for now
My wounds will heal
Probably
My eyes will always find another way
Maybe
I just need to stay sharp for now
Listen for the doors behind me locking shut as the doors in front of me open wide
I know I cannot go back
Anymore
I know another path will show itself soon
Maybe
Another chance will be given without consequence
Right?

Seven

In the pain we shared
We are forever changed and connected
Never will I see you the same
A loving appreciation in the worst of times
All together until we separate from the natural path
One by one we'll watch each other fall into the final sleep
Who will be left for last is yet to be seen but none will last forever
The circle will come to close while the world turns regardless
Another group born
Another link made and experienced
Long life and laughs shared until time takes its toll in full
Another weeping day
Another sunset unseen and unappreciated.
But not today
Today we force normality and fight the days
The green outside seems dim and blurry
The drives seem longer and unbearable
Every moment left to thoughts seem to end in one place on that same face
Tomorrow scary and inevitable bring some comfort but not quite yet.