And
when the glass bowl falls from the ceiling
And when the pillows can’t be cleaned
And when the sink can hold no more dishes
And when the posters cover the walls
And when the dirt becomes part of the wooden floor
And when the shower curtain rips and falls
And when the locks can’t keep the
Roaches
Fly-hungry spiders
And plenty of other unwelcomed guests
(who know they aren’t welcome)
Then
I will grab my smokes and descend the steps
Treading lower and lower for my head was in the clouds.
I will walk past that same building
a hotbed for middle-aged men who’ve lost their way.
And you will follow me to the subway
Follow me follow me follow me
Where the rain will fall in strands
And the sky will show no mercy.
I never had goals but my want for this proves otherwise.
And you will follow me as I try to push past and persevere.
And you will follow me up the stairs
Past the locks
Past the poster bearing walls
And into the kitchen
Where my head will be back in the clouds
Where I will smoke my last cigarette
and I will finally do the dishes.
Copyright © Natasha Ventura | Year Posted 2010
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