Home is a Web
by Keira Clements
North East School of the Arts
Keira Clements is a senior studying creative writing at the North East School of the Arts. She loves to experiment with her style and hopes to someday write for a video game. This poetry collection captures a personal struggle
When the front door creaks open,
Raspy groans and vodka flood my senses.
Surprise falls far behind me.
I was raised to be cautious,
To distrust every rise in tone.
You never know when he will slip.
So I creep on wooden floorboards.
Strings bog down my legs,
Dysfunctional heaps of flesh
Yielding one achy piece at a time.
And oh, how double-edged it is
That he fails to notice my entrance.
Gingerly, I creep into the noisome web
He wove with wobbly legs, as he
Prattles on about the “home” he stitched
Without a thought for its inhabitants.
If my own bed were not forged of his silk,
I’d have no reason to resign myself.
Spying on him sweep,
I think how peculiar it is for all his weaving
That he can never fabricate
A love that lasts.
