moving in

It dropped from too high,
creating tiny twisters of neglect.
Thud filled the corners,
where sound memories were yet to live.
Nothing had a home.
The draft still belonged to another
He dropped it from too high,
creating tiny pangs of regret.
“We have to talk…” filled the corners of his mind,
where her memories used to live.
It sat there.
Looking as if it had always been.
Neon lights through filthy, spider-webbed windows.
A whorish red glow illuminated it now.
Knowingly.
He picked it back up,
creating tiny waves of panic.
“Misc.” now filled the back corner of his closet,
where more boxes would eventually go.
One thing had a home.

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  1. Hope says:

    I love the way you keep using ‘tiny'(neglect, regret, panic) almost as if you’re not sure if you should really be feeling so much over a box. ;)

  2. Daisy says:

    Have admired you silently from afar for a while now.

    This is an evocative piece. Well done!

  3. tNb says:

    (temporarily de-lurking) Beautiful word doodle … :-)

  4. Peter says:

    hope: I think many dudes have the “That’s not very manly” voice in the back of their head.

    daisyjo: Thanks so much!

    tnb: Two delurkings! I am glad that I posted it. Thanks!

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