nothing new in the basement carpet

i came down to my room after
reading. it was pitch black and i wandered
to a light my feet fumbling
through the unseen clutter.
they stumble over the edge of a tray
and catapult the
oil crayons that lived there up
around me. my foot hurts
and i feel it crush the fallen
soldier crayons after the storm. grinding
new color into the carpet.
we reach the light
when a poodle and
the bell she is attached to
trot in and stare at the
remnants of taco meat on a paper
plate on the floor.
she scurries to it as i stare down
into what my foot had painted
on the carpet. they're just
the same colors though. just things i've
seen before. i should of left the light
off.