Wednesday, July 8, 2009

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Mother screamed something from down the hall,
It rounded the corner from her room to the hall but as it did it bounced and
became muffled
I'm half deaf as it is
"I don't want to see it!" I screeched back; it echoed so hard
from the kitchen tiles, marble countertops, sliding glass door
Closed because it's 20 degrees out
Damaged my ears a bit more
I stood dead, in the center, holding onto a wooden chair
the one I yelled about if anyone sat in as a kid
Looked to my right, out the door, at the dull bluish white
snow drizzling onto the wooden deck, only some parts still visible
And my legs jolted, my hands too
my neck stiffened my head back a bit
Who would mind if I...
the thought left, it didn't matter
I wouldn't have the patience anyway.

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