you and i baby.we're locked in the cellar.
door slammed by common pedestrians.
cross walks weren't enough for them to invade.
they all came, stampeded my hardwood floors.
the tiles in the master bath never looked so bare.
but their dirty sneakers aided the simplicity which accompanied each room.
i'm in the cellar though,
and all i can do is stare at you, and listen to them.
walk on my memories.
step on each year.
stomp. stomp. stomp.
