the darkroom

Written by: Matt Doe

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