i line my mind
with tapestries
woven of soft thread
and razor wire
a plethora of memories
of which
to pluck errant strings
letting my life
unravel
before my very
mind’s eyes

hides and skins
draped over
childhood reminders
firetrucks
metal coat hangers
toy cars
mounds of dirt to race them
to erase them
bury them deep
so no off chance
recollection
from this hellish collection
comes to light

i sit
in my mental study
watching the wind
blow the tapestries
against the dank
mossy stone walls
of this bomb shelter
the hinges scream
as rust and bile
flake
to the floor

she is the candle flame
dancing
on the lone wobbly table
in which papers dance
in the breeze
lighting the way
for my quill
to scratch
throughout the long dreary night
no stars
dot the sky
no landscape
no windows
to escape
just endless corridors
in which
to lose myself