Gone, Out of House, Out of Mind
Sunlight dripping onto the carpet,another mess,
constantly on hands and knees scrubbing
manual labor,
well, its easier than what goes on
in my mind
and the sores and callouses left behind,
well, they are on the inside,
and far more dangerous.
The front door,
the room that used to be mine,
what is it?
it's a stranger's door,
an unrecognizable room,
it's a forgotten memory
and yet the subject returns
to the scene,
to bend words,
and pass on premonitions
that are really just feelings
Amazing intuition....
Why.
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