The Darkroom

my darkroom where i develop film filled with chosen memorys taken for my brain to remember the week of yesterday with churchbells in the background as your face fills the frame this paper submerged in this solvent brings to life an image no other like on earth it rises drip dries on a string with a red bulb for company and a locked door just the same scattered torn up on the floor the pieces of a lifetime shattered by a closing door your bags packed before i got back home now a tearfull night like always since you had to go