The Build

I built myself a house

Each joint carved by hand

Inch by careful inch

I built it up around myself

Hammered each nail

Measured each plank

I built it with my own two hands

It’s only now as I lay here

Looking around, surveying my kingdom

That I realise, this is not a house

I have not built what I thought

This is not a safe space for me to call home

It is a coffin

And I think I just nailed on the lid

Reviews

[AYVID N]

This was so heartbreaking a poem to read. When something done so painstakingly fails. We build ourselves a coffin with our own two hands. I do hope the realization has come in the nick of time and the poet can break down those coffin walls and breathe again. Your words are simple yet so profound.

[John the Baptist]

Sometimes seeming perfection can turn out to be not so perfect in the end. Having our own specifications to the letter can eventually reveal a personalized prison.