Tomorrow

Start to run on broken lumber
that has fallen from the structure
of the burning house.
Jump onto one that snaps in half
and grab another piece, just in time.
Swinging and running through the falling thoughts.
careful not to step on the ground, and LOSE the game of carpet lava.
But I can’t leave the house-
Something so mesmerizing and sweet in the air,
a monotonous smell that I search for
every time my mind visits there.
Mama,
Papa,
take me home.
The fire is back, but I am still cold.

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