Clapboard House

My heart is like a clapboard house
Made on the way to West
It goes up fast and crumbles faster 
When the nails start to collapse and bend
There are cracks all in the walls that the wind just loves to whistle through
And when the snow comes down outside it floats into the house
There are holes of knots in aincent wood 
That people can peer out of
And dust comes through the mortar just to tease the feather dusters

ZoeBee

VT

18 years old

More by ZoeBee

  • 1893

    It was just a fluke that I happened to see

    The ghost of a girl in 1893

    I didn't think much of her, tried to ignore

    But then she came 'round in 1894

    A spirit was not something that I had wanted

  • Papercuts

    Did you know that, when you wrote me, I was made of papercuts

    That I was ink and glue and wax but mostly, I was papercuts

    Did you know that, when you read me, I am made of memories