Launching myself
deeper into the ruins,
the broken and defeated
property no one
longs to improve upon
or even look upon,
turning a blind eye
towards,
or the good one
with the fear
that one
will be lost as well.
Doors nailed shut.
Less to steel
the inquisitive
from adventuring forth
than letting
something
escape.
Stairs
sawed halfway up to heaven
preventing a shaky
escape
to the second floor.
Bright red handprint
makes a monkey of blood on
receiving doors
and the words
“Find somewhere else to be”
in pencil on 2X4
quite laughable.
Yet what strikes fear
is the abandonment
of a back alley
warehouse
leaning into
dereliction.
Like :).
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