Journey to the Center of the Earth - Laura Stevenson

A can of cola, an unfilled bathtub for dirty bodies and storing empties.

The land-line's nagging, the mail is scattered on the floor, and through a

keyhole of a triple bolted door, it’s melodrama, it’s confused chemicals.

It’s dirty laundry, it’s empty styrofoam.

The Giants won and all the firecracker shells are littering the street and I

don’t give a shit.

My shoes ran off somewhere and I haven’t even cared to organize a search.

My ball of nerves, don’t mistake me, I’ll refuse you if you choose to track me

down.

And don’t you make me leave without wishing you well 'til I return from my

brief sojourn to the center of the earth.

As far as I tell you it’s not as bad as all of that, and I promise not to be

reckless.

Oh heart of mine, heart of mine, it’s your face that brings me back every time.

It’s dirty laundry, it’s empty styrofoam.