The basement
The basement true_me stories
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life_of_kris
life_of_krismore a poet than a writer I guess
Autoplay OFF  •  7 months ago
A poem about the truest part of a person, below all their facades.

The basement

Hidden from the sun's light and the moon's caress Hidden from the stars' flicker and the morning dew Hidden deep beneath the scent of flowers, I lie while my walls cave in and my floors fall through

They see my picket fence and my painted window shutters They see my white walls and mowed lawn They see my great trees, but to me, the basement, you were drawn

You saw past all my facades and decorations past all my phony allures and invitations You heard my creak and my darkest moan You saw passed the house and beauty, falsely shown

You climbed down my stairs, entering deep into the dark You weren't afraid of my moulded walls, my floors of rotting bark Unlike others, who after seeing me, turned away You smiled unafraid and uttered, here I will stay

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