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Being A Guest

Closed for healing

By Bianca WilsonPublished 6 months ago 1 min read
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Being A Guest
Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

Feelings have spilled

on the floors of my chest cavity

swept aside to keep the peace

The following morning

it remains

scrub it with rationale

it slightly fades

Forgot my feelings were

like blood

messy, dyeing

each sense of wrong

gouges the heart

spilling blood inside the soul

takes me back

to memories of weakness

doormat-cy

Like Mob psycho

the little things

stacking until explosion

I scrub and scrub away

rinse and dry the pain

find a soft carpet

to hide and leave

cause such feelings can't be bandaged

on my own

best to reflect

and bury

as I was slightly in the wrong

this roof is not my own

It is not my place to avenge myself

I have to leave such feelings alone

and only pray

that my tolerance

doesn't suddenly vanish someday

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Bianca Wilson

I want to be creative as much as possible for as long as possible.

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