5.8-5.14: Revenire Mollis

Drunken slurs,
Spills, spatters, and spews.
Nothing can rip my rear-end from you.

Upholstered, upstanding,
And utterly misunderstood.
My couch receives me like no one else could.

It’s seen me at my worst—
Never at my best—
Still, it gives me calm and rest.

Searching the darkness of my living room
My fingers feel for friends or foes.
Only one hand’s there to catch my weight:
A friend that cannot leave my home.

I’ve tried and I’ve failed to live a life I had liked to live.
I possess an Abdielian resistance to leave this couch
And face what could have been.

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.