Stale air of the basement
she found herself in, sat down to play the game
of luck, death, life or a few hundred bucks she
didn't know.
But she knew how to handle the chips,
how to move the cards, aces first with queens last.
She was not low, but high, winning, she
floated on the hollow platform looking so
solid from above.
Sticky coins they
kept her stuck in the game letting
go was no option never was never
will be
a long ago or another far away in the place
of a desire
fire
she thought to have breathed
but only ingested the pieces of the game
on which she choked and promptly died.
YOU ARE READING
In Principio
Poetryhello and welcome to a piece of my brain. enjoy your stay. Y E A R O N E.
