Webula

Reads: 54  | Likes: 2  | Shelves: 1  | Comments: 4

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: House Of Ten Thousand Exotic Rooms

Submitted: June 05, 2018

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Submitted: June 05, 2018

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In the cob webs of corner stone rooms,

 constructed inside,

  a House made from,

gloom and doom, 

I waited for a breeze,

holding back my breath,

praying to never destroy beauty

of this delicately spun,

threaded intricacy,

from which such creatures of my imagination have sprung,

creating a home,

created a new me.

All this hard work,

dreams of death,

where creepy attic critters crawl a top,

 above abandoned cellar dwelling insects,

 dust mites eat up the dead skin

of my once luxurious house,

deconstructing the architecture of my residence.

My abode is a body.

I live inside myself, alone.

Inviting no one in,

this is my Home.

Welcome,

as everyone that stays,

  eventually leaves,

moment to moment.

The spider web of my raindrop captured design,

becomes sun soaked up,

drying out with invisibility,

waiting,

as I trap myself,

in every corner of every room,

I want to live in,

I want to die in,

welcome.

 

 

 


© Copyright 2018 Dr. Acula . All rights reserved.

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