The Dirthouse

by Jenn   Mar 25, 2008


My body doesn't grow in all these colors
But the mind- it keeps on pushing
Past the faded cushion or the television
Or the window (one of many)
The walls are white on the other side
I cannot imagine them when
There is no white in my eyes

The floors are never clean
But I've learned not to cringe
I hardly blink at the lamplight flickering
On--off--on--off
In the corner I'll be silent
Because it is just that: a corner
And there I have no where to be

It's alright to go untouched by the sun
After all, it might miss me entirely
And here in the dirthouse
I've come to love my dirty things
The dirty shapes, the dirty colors--
So many-- too many at first
But I'll never get bored

It's the purple arm or the red eye--
Just red, no white--
That leaves me feeling comfortable
Only once have I been stifled
Or really staggering for breath
But then, once is everyday
So I'll not breathe with lack of Time

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Latest Comments

  • 15 years ago

    by Captivat3d

    Great poem! Keep it up! (:

  • 15 years ago

    by Beautiful Chaos

    It's alright to go untouched by the sun
    After all, it might miss me entirely
    And here in the dirt house
    I've come to love my dirty things
    The dirty shapes, the dirty colors--
    So many-- too many at first
    But I'll never get bored

    ^This was my favorite stanza and I love the title, i think you did a really nice job with it and I am glad I stumbled upon it. Keep up the good work, an enjoyable read :)

  • 15 years ago

    by Big hersh

    This is a good write. keep writing and i hope that your colors will soon change