The Red Estate

Comments (0) Issue 3, Poetry, Writing

The Red Estate

By Alexandria Drouin

 

Feeling good starts with

not answering the door that cracks and creeks

Its light is bright almost gone

 

If all the laundry is soiled

It must be right where we left it

Rise delusion rise,

Rise illusion rise,

Rise from our knees to my feet

and keep my selfish pride

 

When the day is a grave,

When the night is grown,

Feeling good starts with being alone

 

Dive out a window dive

Because each wolf is coffin

Feeling good starts with

drinking much more often

 

Turn water into plaster

and wrath into wine

Touch the wall with ash for tick tock

tick tock brine

Feeling good starts with its relentless end

The light is bright almost gone

when I wake from my descent

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