The Cellar
By Jenna Reimer
I cannot sleep in this room, dusky and humid,
Cloud like patterns of mildew smears the ceiling,
Cobwebs homed in corners,
Broken and drooped,
Lolling viciously like sultry vines.
Windows bared closed hindering the outside,
Only slivers of light break in
Hunting for the living.
Smells of mold and dampened sheets,
Dusky air all lodged within this bounded room.
I gasp amongst an infected space,
Soaked and weak in gilded sweat.
Nothing could survive long in here;
Even the floor planks are on their last breath.
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