Something new.


I haven’t written anything new in nine years.  Nine years without any constructive self-expression.

So, I’ve written.  I don’t have really have a title, but we’ll call this The Room for now.  Thanks for reading.

The Room

I did not know construction
had gone on too long
until there was no light left and
I had forgotten the door

When I first laid brick and mortar
the purpose was more clear
I was to be untouchable
solitary in this room

A fortress for all of us

As the walls grew and the light shrank away
you all stopped coming in
and I stopped leaving

Sometimes, alone in there
I would run my hands down the walls
to touch the gradients on the surface
check for cracks in the materials

I felt depressions, moisture
four children’s hand prints
an empty bottle
the round edges of a ring

I heard knocking then
on the walls
small, delicate hands
but It was too late
it was just too late

I curled up
like a child in winter covers
I balled my fists
and shut it out.


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