Friday, September 02, 2016

tracy street, season of rust

in a house with no
direct sunlight,
in shadowed corners and with the
sound of ticking clocks

in the season of failed escape

in an empty room

six inches off the floor,
rope around his neck
and the groan of the
furnace but never
enough heat

a promise of salvation,
but never enough days

sound of weeping birds
outside every cracked and
frost-stained window

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