poetry

On A Tuesday

I like the emptiness

of my house on a Tuesday.

The quiet that the off white

walls release into my space.

How a footstep can be

heard from another room.

The way the safety and comfort

waits patiently for your return.

There is no words that can

ruin the relationship you have.

No amount of silence that

can create hostility.

There is no improvised

dance that you can guess wrong.

You cannot lie to the place

you escape to.

It watches as you grow

older, wiser, and grey.

Sees the worst parts

and there is never a judgment.

It can replace interaction.

After time peoples games

get weary to play.

The empty, the quiet, my Tuesday

is my peace.

 

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