the wind buffets my windows
great gusts gushing to greater heights
they keep me in my home by keeping me out of their home
but i'm fine with that
so i sit, cozy, wrapped in a blanket,
listening to the wind buffeting my windows
Wind
More by ender
-
four years
i sit and stare out the window
stare out the window at the brown dead grass
the dirty snow melting into muddy slush
the mud that is criss-crossed and destroyed with ruts and tire tracks
-
face
my face is a cage
and the doves inside are suffocating
in a pile of their own shit
my arms are broken wings
and their featherless forms are useless
-
house
in the mud,
in the dirt,
in the silt,
in the pores of the earth,
with the worms,
the moles,
the bugs,
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