Poetry | Stories | Photography
In the fridge of your mind, your house has different levels of fear.
The freezer houses those things you lock up inside, while the cold section houses those visions and memories you wish you could forget.
Now the freezer is being defrosted, and your worst fears must be faced.
You start to disintegrate as water drips through the fridge and pools outside the door.
You had to turn the fridge off one day and face those fears.
You live with a fridge from yesteryear.; her door is old, and the suction is a bit off.
Partying like you’re in your twenties, you drank too much last night and feel flat.
You descend the staircase to the kitchen for some relief from the heat and sickness.
Placing one foot in front of the other, you stand in front of your vintage fridge.
You open the fridge only to find a secret garden hidden inside your love.
Putrid smells and semi-decaying pumpkins reveal themselves to you in horror.
You see moss, mould, mushrooms and something else growing in that ecosystem.
Peachy, you feast your eyes on the greenery and decide to close the fridge for good; you value your tummy, so upon closing the fridge, you kiss her and say goodbye.
C & K 