Leaving the house

There's been something of a hiatus on here in terms of posts. It's not that I haven't been writing poems, because I have. Once you start writing poems there's no stopping; they come out of mid-air, often, and you write them down, intending to come back to them when you've got a minute. Sometimes the minutes never appear. 
Anyway, here's one that's made it off the back-burner. 

Leaving the house

Going out,

leaving the house

shut up in the sticky

heat, seems sadistic,

like stifling someone,

forcing them down

on a bed, smothering

them under a pillow.