I slide the hollow basement door…
“I am all set. Good to go!”
Yet, within the depth of reality, I know this is not so!
Ages ago, I started digging holes for the insanity.
Looking to see where the madness came from…and where will it go.
The ache of paranoia.
The hidden house with secrets no one is to know.
I had not been born there.
If the rain falls to harsh my dug hole…my frenzy becomes a hostile mess.
As captor and provider, in this house of cards,
The chains you held came wrapped in dusty drawn shades.
And, a wife of infant emotion.
As my jailer, you became a caricature of opaque notions.
With full-grown feet…standing overtly tall,
I stare at the pastel mural on my childhood wall.
It is purposely posed to hide the three of us.
Mother still dazed since the nuptials.
Myself in a slumber party built for one.
spade in hand…speaking with forked tongue.