You appeared in the afternoon and walked in as if you belonged.
You turned the doorknob and entered the room, unlike the others who sneaked through the window and left before the rise of the sun.
A shriveled up grape, almost a raisin as it dried in the sun that you let In the room.
And you left me to broil, forcing a rod through my body and twisted me on a stick.
You're head knocking
Heart stopping
And I never gave you a key.
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Author:
pastaclouds (
Offline) - Published: October 14th, 2016 22:10
- Comment from author about the poem: A poem on doubt.
- Category: Surrealist
- Views: 39
- Users favorite of this poem: Kash13
Offline)
Comments1
FOOLS PUSH IN ~ ANGELS (& Gentlemen) ALWAYS KNOCK ~ WELCOME PC ~ Thanks for sharing. Like you I am always very careful to whom I give a KEY ~ But some gain entrance in spite of that. Love your description of uninvited attention ! AND YOU LEFT ME TO BROIL ~ A ROD FORCED THROUGH MY BODY AND TWISTED ME ON A STICK ! A well penned poem ~ surrealist and shocking. Thanks for sharing ~ more please ~ Yours BRIAN
Thank you so much, I realy enjoyed reading your comment. Yes, I will definenetly be uploading more.
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