When did I stop filling blank walls?
I used to stick up postcards to clutter up the gaps.
From magazines and places I longed to go.
Make the place interesting. Make me interesting.
Blue tack clinging to the backs of pretty flowers, mounds of spices
Trying so hard to hold it together
Color the beige out.
When did I stop liking Klimpt posters ?
” So studenty” that’s what I say now.
There was a time when that kiss was everything I wanted to be.
When Dali’s long legged creatures and melting clocks made me feel something more than a clean wall ever could.
A time when incense welcomed you at my door and we ate on the floor.
Now it’s clean lines and neat coffee tables.
Cream leather couches and women who click when they walk.
I used to go barefoot.
Drink wine while I cooked. Fall asleep on the sofa.
Clean lines. No clutter. I should feel free.
But beige just isn’t me.