there's a room we can't bear to look in

the wallpaper festers slowly
with solid pink stripes
a field of flowers growing
beneath a single-window dim light
the unsoiled hypoallergenic white carpet
sits without speck or stain
not a strand of hair nor a stray dustmite

she cries every night
when she opens the door;
I keep the door closed.

but today, I stand at the windowsill,
eyes focused solely on the shoreline outside.
a rusted ice cream truck rolls by slowly
singing slightly off-key
imprinting the damp sand.
an old fisherman sits alone,
an aside; a lowly king
on a checkboard blanket
playing solitaire with a deck of fifty-one
while a heart I can't make out
drifts slowly into the sun.
a young girl skips along the pier
wearing untied lowtops.
I watch the lace bounce up and down;
with each concrete scrape,
the end slightly frays.

I turn away,
shoot a glance across the room,
and take a step towards the table
holding my stillborn pistol, silent and cold.

too busy to write, sorry I've kept y'all away from my glorious poetry for so long. after spring break I should be back more often. c4c if you leave a link.
I will (probably) be back.

First thing I saw: "hypoallergenic" made me wince. Way too long, hard to say, and just ugly, especially when sandwiched in between two smaller adjectives as it is.
she cries every night
when she opens the door;
I keep the door closed.

didn't like the repetition of door... I'd like to see the last line reworded.

this had some strength to the body of it, however this was missing a little bit of you. I'm glad it's different but the ending seemed kind of... cheesy probably isnt the word but yeah. It didn't impact me like it should have. I don't think it worked well with the rest of this.

hope the writings well.
i look forward to you're poetry in all it's glory
Anatomy Anatomy
Whale Blue Review

Park that car
Drop that phone
Sleep on the floor
Dream about me