Squatted i stayed in
the study shelves,
with no tiny tentacles of light
lashing in
the cemented crimson walls.

With a silencing sound
on my knocking
dusted,
dark,
oak door.

With my frozen feet
Calloused
as much
To form a maze.

With

No remorse, I walked
closer
and closer
To the enchanted window.

I gazed the
pink, pillow
she picked,

for my twenty third birthday
and the
sweet,
sweating
memories she didn't pray for.

I walked,
closer
and closer
To the enchanted window.

A few steps ahead,

The ticking
tick-tock hung,
like my deceased
brother’s skull
hovering over the door.

I walked,
closer
and closer
To the enchanted window.

A few steps ahead

I sight the
withering woman
my fearing father
abandoned.

I walked,
closer
and closer
To the enchanted window.

I kick the
cracked,
coffee cup she left,
on her lasting last day.