Trapped (Dream 012524)

I was trapped in a house of the past
where staircases appeared
twisting to nowhere
and rooms were puzzle games,

where I walked through
old conversations
and emerged in the present,
my foreign reflection
in a hall of faceless mirrors,

the scenes of people
I used to know
still in their old spaces
were so real I could touch
the pencil he held in his hand
at the desk he used to write from

but only she
only she
was my only constant

broadcasting into rooms
to show me the way
with an urgent regard
so as not to get trapped there

hurried me to dress
and gather my things
as if the house were on fire

as if my insistence to stay
would alter a future
I still have no heart to imagine.

Photo by Pawek on Pexels. Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift. .