pmmurphy Offline

I don't want to feel these walls.

I live down this corridor
where lights flicker every time,
I try to breathe.

At the end,
a blank door
where I hope to paint her
across the layers of wood.
trying to keep this place
from going under.

this light will give out
the bulb will fall to the ground
and shatter.

as I get close to the door
it feels warm and the knob burns my hand.
the other-side, unattainable.

It feels dark here
because I allow you to siphon out my heart.

even in somber times
color resides where
I hope her voice to lay,
but that goes to the jury
and the panel judges it
“not for now.”

Holding out my arm for a mediocre selfie.
Smiling for the camera:
Click.
Flash.
Capture.

Look beautiful again,
with that half-broken smile.