Riley welch is a poet from texas living in Denver. She posts three original poems a week. 


When you move place to place
you stay light and quick
get rid of what you don't need
keep what you do.

Everything I own fits in my car.

I can sleep anywhere if I need to.

The longer you stay,
the heavier you get.
Your things sink into the ground your house grows on
and the roots lock in as deep as they can hold.

18 years seems so long to then rip the bandaid.
I have friends who have lived in the same house their whole life.

I've got a few constants.
They feel like comfort.

I can never find light switches in unfamiliar bathrooms.
I find myself zombie walking in the dark.

I wonder if some day I'll let the sand settle down into cracks.
Grow heavy, sink.

I can't imagine keeping myself in one place for more than 6 years.

But I'm sure I'll lose track of time eventually.