Poetry Book 3

eye spy

Eye spy
A messy bedroom
That I've been meaning to tidy up for the past three to four years
Eye spy
Two bottles of expired cough syrup on the dresser top
One for the night and one for the day
That had both come with me
To Vancouver in 2019
When Street Spirits did a show there
And my dumb ass felt under the weather
Eye spy
A bunch of books
Haphazardly disorganized
On a homemade shelf from my grandpa
Who told me
If he built it
I'd worry about the mess
Eye spy
A random stick taller than me
Leaning against the shelf
Decorated with strips of red fabric
Braided with beads
And painted feathers
When I felt I needed a fancy walking stick
Eye spy
A couple of black hats
Dangling from the bookshelf's top corner
One with a cross of silver spikes
From my high school days
And I'd made a girl I liked hate me for it
Because it was morbid
And reminded her of death
And another hat with a red skateboarding symbol
The matching cap of one a late friend used to wear all the time
And I can still see him wearing it
In Valhalla
Eye spy
A mittfull of scarves and bandanas
On the other top corner
Depicting every colour under the rainbow
Reminding me
Of when I'd try to wear a colorful scarf or headpiece
Every time I possibly could
When I went to the city
On special occasions
Because it made me feel happy
Like the teal and copper long scarf
Of stretchy fabric with ruffled edges
Worn on several winter rehearsals
With Street Spirits
Reminding me of the shows we did at the time
Eye spy
A painted thin box
That used to hold boxes of stuffing mix
Now turned into a wall hanging beside the shelf
That reads
We are all addicted to something that takes away the pain
Reminding me
When I had painted it during an all time low
Around me
In this messy room
Are simple memories
Ones that perhaps slip my mind from day to day
But are welcoming all the same