Enter The Dungeon Door

This room’d make anyone sneeze

And days like this

Nestle you into unlocked ranting.

In hiding, the mold still flush,

Peels back your senses

And lets you fly, chest burning

Into the thick and dreary.

 

The heater is shuffling the dust

Like transparent tornados

Aimed at the chair

By the dungeon door.

What keeps a person here?

Money’s a simple culprit

But the sub-plot chimes,

And work is my easiest target.

Workbooks are chains

Tied to your future

And I’m bound to this hole

Cursing advice

That some title patience.

 

Exhaustion is what I call sleep deprivation these days.

Boredom is what I call house movement.

I prick my toes on a slew of pine needles

And just scream out “FUCK”

My roommate will check on me

And I’ll say its nothing.

I’d shrug my shoulders

If I didn’t want to light a match so damn badly.

Motherfuck this place

And every time I have settled.