More upholstery than frame
I sink into your floral print
with matching curtains
slip on rugs
listen to the talking book of your wallpaper

I wait for the doctor
who wants me
wants me
       to swim underwater
              pay up
       heal myself

I belong on tarmac
walking across a disused airfield
watching nature emerge
not on a comfy sofa

I can't rest
go back
       into everyone else

My needs are small
he doesn't matter
His garden is neat
I count bugs and bitten petals
ditch all the photos

I could lie
on the runway
but the wheels will keep turning

~ ~ ~