My Alma Mater

Faded beige

The color of my past

I pried it out of my memory

It can’t be a part of me

It just can’t


I bit through my chains

As if they were pythons

“They’re out to kill me”, I screamed

I bled myself out


The monster wasn’t the place

It was my head

The streaks of red marked not a bloody vengeance

But the hope of an abode


Dusty seats, the calm after the storm

The storm was mine and mine only, but

I shamefully labelled the walls with my hate

I thought it was your fault


Clarity finally appeared

In minute and metal

It was supposed to be a shelter

And that exactly, it did


A resounding threshold

Sitting sturdy on what was once sea

It welcomed, it beckoned


“Come home, son”

It called

“This piece is still yours”


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s