You stood, the door
open
behind you
my eyes shocked
at the the light
as it pours in
like burnished sound from a trumpet’s polished mouth
and the walls came crashing down
walls once solid now liquid
terrible waves carrying
a terrible fate
the world is not
what only moments before
it was perceived to be…
the blood draining
to my fear,
ears pealing appealing
when the mouth would not
stubborn mouth perched
like a contented cat
upon the destruction of all formed before,
the heart a
horde of wildebeest
running in every direction
crashing into themselves
then running off again…
and I sat
in the post-laminated kitchen beyond repair,
my hands calmly folded in my flaccid lap,
the tea still steaming
before me
in its chipped, favorite cup
and around
the home came tumbling
down.
and the walls come crashing down
walls once solid now liquid
terrible waves carrying
a terrible fate
the world is not
what only moments before
it was perceived to be…
I remember reading somewhere —
or perhaps I made this
up
to defeat
that detonation as cold and
as loud
as any arctic blast —
In the middle of the tempest
dwells the
solitude of despair
none can see, none that
look
and none that
care, especially not those that once did.
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