If My Walls Could Talk: Two Poems

I was inspired by a writing prompt I read, which said, “If the walls of my bedroom could talk, they’d say” ... I wrote what I believed my walls would say about me, and then I was lost in thought about what some of my other household objects would speak of.

See, it's a funny exercise – speaking as an inanimate object, one that you see and interact with daily. I feel it gives you more humility to be able to create life in your head. You become more aware of your presence to things that often are ignored completely. 

Anyways, I feel myself beginning to ramble, so here are two poems I wrote. The first being what my bedroom walls would say about me, and the second is what my favorite mug would speak of. 

Enjoy. 

Poem 1: Bedroom Walls

Picture of two walls covered in photos and posters.

Poor dazy eyed girl, 

Prayers and kisses stitching up her wounds.

She sleeps in, far past the sunrise. 

Her mind watches us watch her;

She touches our plastered skin until her fingertips become numb.

We are covered in art and pictures; She shows us off to all that enter. 

We can’t contain her voice or cries, 

For we are thin, yet

She has made a home out of the four of us. 

Poem 2: My Favorite Mug

Picture of a mug containing tea.

She fills me up to my brim

blowing gently on my heat

She sets me down and walks 

away 

I wait for her to return

I wait for her

to drink my insides

to leave me hollow

She returns but I’m cold now

She wraps her fingers around my sides and handle

She lifts me up placing 

her lips 

on my edge

Her lips kiss me and she drinks

I allow myself to bend and empty out into her mouth

She repeatedly sucks and pulls away

only to return to 

my sweet liquid inside

Her tongue brushes her lips, every drop

of me on her mouth

She smiles

“Thank you” she says

and I know I’d do it 

again

and again