The Dresser

The Dresser

——

The dresser

Inside, the key to hope.

The key to change.

-

But no.

-

Hope cannot be trusted

And change is an excuse.

-

I view my key, my way out

Right in front of me.

-

The dresser tips— it totters

I stand beneath it,

I feel I need it

-

I sit below the dresser,

small as a perched bird…

As it tips . . . and totters

-

I tell myself there is time

All that I need

To fly,

To hope…

-

But hope cannot be trusted

-

So instead I must seek peace

-

Let me taste the end,

And find true peace

-

Let the doves find me

-

And let them mourn

-

Like a crow brooding,

I wait for the hunter.

-

The final tilt to end it all

-

The eerie shrieks of the dresser

The eerie shriek of me

-

My hand

the cause

-

I knew

-

There was never a wall.

-

Only me.

——

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