See you

Call it a protection of a possible disaster.
Yeah, that’s what we’ll call it.
Averting some bad future, bad history,
all at once.

Because I need the smoke to fill the room,
before I can realize where I am,
and maybe where I should be.
It only looks like home.

It’s hard to recall what the words meant
or describe the picture again.
I’ll never let what’s right for me
walk through that door.

Call it a flaw of the grain
found on silver screens;
false beliefs of the world
painted behind sunglasses.