Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Colors

Finding a home has never been easier,
than pulling back the covers of my mind
and letting myself swim into the blue of morning.
The black sock by my bed,
the green knitted hat of winter,
the one I swore I would never wear
rests on my table
stretched from use.
I once told myself how things would and wouldn’t be,
what I would and wouldn’t do.
But those vows were easily forgotten
like my high school journal
and sweaty backseats.
Now there are cords to untangle
and envelopes scattered like raisins.
The pull of t-shirts and jeans
follows me from room to room
like a ghost I can not escape.
My innocence,
once pure and inviting
has been marred
by the lies of others.
Now when I walk,
I leave no trail of white
to find my way back.