Two Weeks

Two Weeks

Soft-lipped lullaby

tapping of heat to come

in a long unused house

Old school tattoos

jabbering jaws with New Agey flaws

the rising and lowering

statues reading to heaven

warm tummy

intrigue and mortar

comedy and florescence

between the maze edges

teen fantasies

however

Screaming down the hallway

scraping the walls like talons

no one can see

coins jangling behind

Bruises on her arm

fat puckered

slow moving

fear of a hit

and another hit

rotary

round and round

Around the edges

back and forth

never stray far

never go deep

always a cycle

always recycle

Can’t shut myself up

can’t turn myself off

a drain in the brain

no cure you can feign

There is no darkness in my despair

for I have seen the light

and it is black

October 7, 2015 

Tressa Lee Breen

Inspired by OctPoWriMo2015.

Cannot remember where I found image, used without permission, with no credit taken, no profit made and no offense intended.