Leaking, Again.

The roof

is leaking

again.

-

The water

has gathered into

a lightly browned puddle.

-

Crashing against my feet,

rippling outwards

into nothing.

-

A spider glides through it,

legs twitching desperately,

going nowhere fast.

-

Its web can do nothing now.

-

In the shower, the water

stops and starts and

stops and starts. Hot, then

cold. Hot, then

cold.

-

When I open the window,

smoke and screams billow through

this gap my hands created.

-

And the TV stopped working.

It turns on and reveals

only static, where once

there was some company.

-

The ink of all those books

has started dripping

off of the side of their shelves.

-

The mirror has cracked

and is shattering as we speak.

A landmine of glass

where once there was freedom.

-

I’ll cut my feet

in searching for my answers

and the flashing lights outside

won’t care.

-

The roof

is leaking

again…

and I have

never

been so cold.