I want to tell you everything I know.
Lives invisible live within these walls
Yet they hold me, and that is what I know.
They hold my books, my poems, family portraits,
Blankets, a couch, an unplayed guitar: All
the things I think I need to live a life.
And that is what I know. To live one's life
Between walls, among things. Comfort. Luxuries.
I dip Oreos in milk; the wind howls.
Winter screeches past my door and I am warm
Inside, while outside, the almost full moon,
With its cold face, stares down the snowy ground.
It's all I know: to watch with rapture at
The seasons, to listen and think each car
That squeals by or parks in front of my house
Is him, coming to tell me he loves me.
But it's not him. It's just me. And the wind.
Cookies & milk. These four walls I call home.