Feb 7, 2010

The House That My Head built-Written in April 16 2009


a scent of a certain era
comes along with the dust in my house.
Collages of incidents,
series of unfortunate events,
once buried come alive.

Why so hard to shove these speckles of soil off my doorsteps???
All my plants have died ages ago.

Marks-fingerprints on my mirrors?
but they have just been wiped seconds ago.
Puddles of water drip from the ceiling, and its not even raining outside.

I erase the marks
and they show up again
with an eraser
with thinner..all the same.
I paint and repaint
over and above the holes in my wall
but the cracks seem wider then before.
significant,
as if untouched
unrenovated
uncared for
unworthy
I vacume the dust
over and over again
it has became a habit i cant live without.
so irritating as it is.
when the fatigue wears off
for a fraction of a moment i can sit
i rest my case!
and.......
it appears again!!!!!
The scent,
the soil,
the marks and fingerprints
the puddles,
the cracks
The dust.

the more i shove and push away, the bigger they get.
and then i start to wonder...
Was this madness really about my house,
or more about my head?!?

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