Hidden away above two thin staircases a bed, a desk, and bookshelf, a writer’s paradise the rain would fall and set its cadence to my thoughts the old radiator pumped hot breath forcing my window to be cracked a pinch and there each night I would fall asleep in a melody of cold and hot— wrapped up safe in all my ghosts. xx Atticus
Hidden away above two thin staircases
a bed, a desk, and bookshelf,
a writer’s paradise
the rain would fall and set
its cadence to my thoughts
the old radiator pumped hot breath
forcing my window to be cracked a pinch
and there each night I would fall asleep
in a melody of cold and hot—
wrapped up safe in all my ghosts.
xx Atticus