a house of glass,

throwing boulders

the windows smashed

realizing now, the roof

was the first to crack

two hands

clench furious fists,

submitted to silence.

we were nomadic,

spiraling manic

concussed by

every pass

of traffic

do you wonder,

how I came to be?

slaved to fight for you,


for you were all

I could see.

now I am much like

a pistol supressor,

a tragedy under pressure.

coping with

apathetic endeavors.


One thought on “~nomadic~

  1. You do a great job carry the image of the glass house throughout the poem with a lot of moments where it relates back to that first line. I especially appreciate it when I read about how the person they had to fight for is the only one they can see since they live in a house made of crystal where essentially anyone can see inside just they same as they can see anyone outside of it.


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