INSIDE – A Found Poem
This couch has a permanent ass print on it.
A doorway that goes to a magical place
called the bathroom.
My mom’s vacuum
that has been sitting since after we used it
to clean the confetti embedded in the carpet after Easter.
All the toys around the room are scattered like flailing fish.
Wow, look! It’s my cap and gown!
My head twisting three sixty
just saw my snapchat
someone’s selling weed for sixty.
A lavender plant is high on vinegar.
The next living room is occupied by my grandmother
watching her favorite christmas movies over and over.
My grandmother’s ashes sitting alone.
Mother’s religious crosses, big as the wall.
As I turn to my left, I’m greeted by my PS4,
my only form of social contact.
You avoid the actual problems.
That is if you can count 10 year olds
screaming into their mic because they lost a game.
I yell every time a motherfucker kills me in Call of Duty.
Seasons pass like menstrual cycles
with a staircase leading nowhere stuck in between.
TV overheating having seen thousands of movies
and wayyyyy more youtube videos
because after i fall asleep
it just cranks those things out
like the engine cranks the pistons.
A messy bed i lay in for 20 hours a day.
I see a backpack hanged.
A closet that looks like a faucet.
It feels as if i’m a rock that has been tossed into the ocean
of my own house.
A man in torn clothing
stumbled out of one of the facility’s testing rooms, screaming.
My intention is to stop being a slave for this house.
I stay secluded with my own actions. Let’s move on.
Doors everywhere, Specifically two.
One leads you to the outside world,
And the other leads to a smaller one.
I’m brave enough to open them
There’s white butterflies all around
Flying in a green meadow
cast over by an endless blue sky
at the end of the coffee table.
I open the red door,
It’s my mom’s room again, but this time more familiar
With red curtains,
The curtains—
I say my goodbyes to the lion, robot, and vacuum.
I step through the door-
hear fingers hitting keys—
Light and dark piano with its black and white keys—
Shoes hitting the floor in a slow rhythm
You start to feel the cool breeze
coming from the blades on the ceiling.
All these Christmas lights, still shining.
Puzzle pieces scattered everywhere.
Parents walk in then leave.
It feels like I’m alone and no one’s ever not busy.
A signed jersey by Jj Watt in a frame. Dusty cords on the floor.
A strong loving feeling with a newborn boy sleeping next to me.
Then back to the TV with Johnny, Moira, David,
and Alexis Rose, and Back to Computer Screen One.
Two. Then Three On top of a foldable Table.
In my senior year in high school, I contributed to something run off on a mimeograph machine (Google it.) called, “The UnYear Book.” I wish I had a copy. The frustration of working so hard to get to the point where you thought it would all pay off–only to have it yanked from you is so distressing. All I remember feeling was angry–all the time. I deeply empathize with students across all boundaries. My advice–believe in yourself and your ability to move forward. The anger will fade if you let it–don’t let it take over the rest.
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