Title: closing Author: eric88
heavy oak glazed and true, splinters woven throughout the grooves nestled deep within the house, sitting to be unearthed its locked and mount its handle dusted with rust, firmly locked in place. enriched in power and absent of grace subtle tones it gives away, morning lows and nightly gaze run your hand along its body, deep and true, absent of warmth brittle hands they catch and scar, an ear to the door brings nothing a mind to the lock brings scorn. a knock to the center a white knuckled sound a faint cry for help brings nothing but the door a house i travel daily, a house i know nothing about its halls of empty dim light, its embodied rooms despite every night filled with my steps. hands gliding against the walls to find myself once again meeting with the door. the protector of whats to gain, the minding brute to cross a simple lock i can not pick, bringing myself against the door making me a prisoner of my own house that i know of nothing about. Comments on "closing"
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