Heaven Fay: A Poem

21 March 2018

A poem should be a house, the door unlocked. You let yourself inside. You hear, in some room down the hallway, whispering. A piano. Laughter. Muffled crying. You walk to the room. You open the door, and inside is the thing you always feared. Inside is the person you love. The person who never loved you. The person who died. Yourself. Hanging flowers. A box of melted snow. Inside is the thing you did not know you were going to find. It surprises you. The poem is the journey down the hallway - the heart, thudding; the mystery, the anticipation, the hope, the unknown, the unknown.
It’s purpose is the thing behind the door.
Heaven Fay
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