I see faces amongst the wood.

I see faces amongst the wood
ingrained within the floor
that I step upon
rather than walk around.

I hear words spoken years ago
with a lower intensity
although they’re duller
they still wreck havoc upon my ear drums
causing reactions to numb.

I smell a metallic scent
drifting up
and I get down
cleaning all around.

I taste the sweetness of power
as I’m down
on my knees
slurping the liquid
before it dries
and I wonder how long its taken them to rise.

I touch gaining a sense of the past
and I curl in close
and I whisper within the porcelain ear
embedded within the floor
that all this could have been prevented
had they just listened before.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina