Bubblegum Walls

I rise to leaking floors and bubblegum walls.

Can’t muster the maw to chew the carpet or drink the chalky sheetrock.

Stained silverware and dripping coffee pots run my mornings dry.

Swollen cheeks and soaking pillows fill my tears with eyes.

Broken bed springs and a wooden mattress rest me thin.

Melted hangers and wrinkled shirts crease my skin.

Shocking blank white faces blow my mind.

Crooked whims of crown molding frolic in time.

The kitchen sink gives me everything but hot water and dry cabinets.

The dusty bones of my slanted home I joyously inhabit.

Burnt cigarettes and wet matches light the way.

Moldy bread and peanutless butter fatten my day.

Soap-filled dryer and lint-soaked washer clean the rest.

Warped refrigerator door and sauce-spotted stove I love to death.

Kaleidoscope windows,
Invisible doors,
These bones are my bones,
This house is my home.

Gas it bright and fill my lungs with asphyxiation fun.

Thank you for the waterfall roof, I love you, Mum.