edges of darkness

grease marks the floor,

dust, the walls,

neglect drapes everything like a thick blanket,

disuse has warped the wood,

more than years of scuffling feet ever could have.

a family should have been here,

to love these mottled wallpapers like their fore-bearers.

the edge of a knife glints on a table top,

illuminated by light dabbling through

a cracked window,

its splintered pane missing a segment or two.

thoughts prickle in the backs of your minds

and letting go never seemed like such a good idea.

Reviews

[ClaireBear]

oh my god that was amazing! keep it up, that poem took something that could have been a sob story and you turned it into something beautiful, delicate, and precious! keep on rocking!