I'm here!
Up the stairs
is where I watch
the new family move
the furniture and the kids
are just the sweetest I've seen.
I don't think they know it yet though
that I'm lurking right above their dining table
or that I'm out about when they're out the house.
Their dog was such a noisy little critter and I was sorry
to have opened him up and splattered him over the ivory walls.
Grotesque little animal, he was--you perhaps called him little Spike.
Oh, I hated him from the very pinnacle of my bones and skin and blood cell.
But let's not talk about your awful house pet anymore... I think I've frightened you.
Honey, don't you know your fear doesn't matter to me right now? I see you're shaking.
You know why? Because right now, in the middle of the night, I'm on the ceiling--guess where?
Your head is turning, turning the right way. Finally! Our eyes meet for the first time; I'm downstairs.
YOU ARE READING
Entendre
PoetryAn expression or burst of emotions, a place of solace from suicide and depression. May be an art or a form of liberation-probably a loss of sanity driven from hungry memories; to understand and listen to the stories around us, a passion-driven delir...
