roaming the house
in the dead of night
I find the furniture
has moved
from just a half
hour ago
a stubbed toe
a bruised shin
mumbling shit
under my breath
it’s been over
two years
since I moved
into this house,
why do I continue
these nocturnal
outings?
maybe I’m just
exhibiting some
insanity
— GB
I will make with my tears a circle in the sand. There, I will build a castle.
Inside my head
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If I Cant Dance I Dont Want to Be Part Of Your Revolution
Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.
Follow my journey to writing, Blogging and publishing my musings..
Pippa May, "An author at the thrusting edge of erotica" xxADULT CONTENTxx Please leave a comment - Pippa loves to chat @PantsdownAbbey
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