Pack Rat

Pack Rat
by Mike Pollock


The tides swallowed the sound
like the sand running away to leave
sinking heels slipping down
past the warm
into the cool depths of water soaked mud.

My brain tries
in vain, though it may be
to fix this gaping hole
in the face of my lifes logic.

Like a game with no chips, or cards, or pieces
Falling apart in the attic,
next to postcards and stamps
long forgotten to our world
but a staple to the dust ridden memories of old.

Close this time to the end
I can almost hear the buzz
the swaying sound of leaves
the chirping of the birds.

It fights its way through the veil of silence
motion kills the mood
Fleeing once again down the folding stairs
to hide shaking on the bathroom stairs.

She's had enough.
These memories are eating her to death,
filing down her nerve endings
until the very thought of light
makes her cringe.

Tears mark trails, train tracks of misery
run down dusty cheeks.
folded arms, crushed beneath the weight
of never ending responsibility,
can't halt the rising floor.