the carvings in my door
ask me why i cried like a lost child today
the murals in my dining room
stare at me as i walk by
they ask me where i'm going
i bite back a snarky reply
"it's not like i have a home to return to. neither do i have an end. oh how i wish to disappear, into the green and the blue, the stare of a lover and the one without a clue, the lake or the nightlamp, the woman in black or the man in a suit, oh how i wish to embrace, the strokes so brilliant and cruel."
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