Post-ponement

[I don't really know what I'd call this. It isn't poetry, its still not prose.
Thought stream, prolly. =/]

I walk through grey meanders,
Stepping carefully to avoid
the dark criss crosses:
Wars of leaves and wires.

Then on to lanes
Of sound and play
They don't run about like we did, though.
PSP huddles. I trudge on
through roads and lost times
Quagmires, shaken off.

A look up, and the sapphire holds me
In a careless twine around its littlest giant finger
I care not for the chain
In its grasp, I am free

A blare and a hasty look down
A mumbled apology to the driver
An uncertain shake
And then,
The mindless laughter

Boxed houses lined up
Off key Idol singing runs out through one
And a yell for someone to shut the back door
Before another someone runs away
And the smell of hot packet soup
Simmering lightly;
Warm yellow lights.
Like any of the other
Lined up beside
And yet..

Open your heart..

I'm home.