A refrigerator room
In more than just one way
The ice upon the walls
Shows the extreme cold
Tells of frozen hearts and words
Old leftovers in the corner
Never eaten, never thrown away
Never spoken of again
(in hopes they'll disappear)
Tonight's leftovers?
Left to rot with the rest
 

 

 Only to be looked at once and
tossed to the side
Milk going sour
Sitting far too long
No one will go near it
Everything
Just like my rotten mind
No one ever sees it anymore
Just avoid it, it will go away
And then the boxing of baking soda
But someone forgot to open it
So the stench drives me crazy
As I rot inside my
refrigerator room

 

Doll Photography/ Concept © Cyril Place

Videography © CyberProphet

Poem © Felicity 1999

 email: kender54@hotmail.com