I’m considering leaving the house
With a warning on
That reads
I’m sorry about the steel
Obscuring my threshold
I could move it
But you see
I can’t decide if I like it or not
The way it looks, the way it feels
It sort of fits
Over my tender face
Over wounds that aren’t yet scars
Deep in my chest
Something drags
I let it, once
And I got used to being worn down
But the steel covered me
Picked me up and lay me down
Wrapped me up
Whilst I slept
And kept me warm when you left
So forgive me
For keeping it close
You see it sort of fits
- Author: A.J (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: February 16th, 2020 13:43
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: A Boy With Roses
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