House Of Cards

I had to do a bunch of exploratory writing for my writing class, which is awesome! Because I'm LewisClark! I love exploring! We had to try writing things we'd never written before, so I tried my hand at free hand poetry. Just writing whatever came to mind. When I learned about the assignment (due a few hours after I heard about it, by the way...) the words "I do not mean to exaggerate, yet I find  myself living in a house of cards" kept ringing in my ears. And thus "House of Cards" was born. Let me know what you think of it?

I do not mean to exaggerate,

Yet I find myself living in a House of cards

Made of glass

Balanced on the tip of a needle

Perched on a cliff.

 I do not know

 How I got to be here,

Living in such 

A precarious place.

The thought is always at The back of my mind…

What if I do 

The wrong thing?

One misplaced item,

A sudden movement,

Even 

The happenings of nature

May cause this 

Delicate circumstance

To shatter and fall,

Destroying everything

 I so carefully built.

It’s frightening to think

My world could be Destroyed so quickly.

My world which has taken All of my life to build….

And in an instant it could Be gone.

Passers-by stare through my walls,

Never before have I lived so exposed,

So fragile.

They stare.

I stare back.

 I know what they think,

They all think the same.

How could you live this way?

 And I ask, "How can you live any other way?"

There is a certain beauty of staring at these walls.

The way the light reflects off of every surface,

Illuminating everything,

Colors everywhere, shining in my eyes.

Obscuring my vision.

And still my mind reaches back,

Reaching so deep, wondering….

 What if I do the wrong thing?

That beautiful delicate house of cards

Made of glass

Balancing on the tip of a needle

Perched on a cliff.

 The wrong thing.

 The wrong thing?

 Destroying it, breaking the walls, shattering them completely.

The wrong thing.

A grain of sand,

A gentle wind…

The wrong thing

And everything is gone.

I stare through those glass walls

On a needle

On a cliff.

And I wonder….

How could you live this way?

And the rock leaves my hand.