PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

As I hold the handle
I perspire on the copper twist,
I insist that I've been here before,
Nights like this
are bred of nothing but bad choices
and horrible hosts who know better,
He's waiting there
Right on the porch about five or so feet away
casting a stare of ill intent,
"Welcome home",
He wheezes through short breaths
that gives way he's close to death,
"Imagine a world
without you there to bare
the burden of breathing this air,
I can almost taste it",
His words hit me like X-Rays
I'm transparent so to say,

I release my grip
and resume my departure
from this house of ill omen,
Where I've stumbled is far
from where I once was,
How soon I can become so lost
When every where is far from home