throwing stones

in my dreams

there is a house with too many rooms
painted in colors i don’t really care for
filled with someone else’s furniture

books fall from stacks on a staircase
floors have paths worn deep into filth
bedrooms are all filled with strangers

i am lost in the heart of nowhere
where no one ever offers a map
there is always light when i want darkness

and no one has ever heard the word





A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo. see more here.

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