this being human is a guesthouse.
open the doors, like your eyes,
it’s instinctual, you realize—
you are alive.
you cry.
*
this being human is a guesthouse.
open the windows, let in the light.
it’s temporary, the dark, it might—
reveal the whole in the half.
you laugh.
*
this being human is a guesthouse.
light the fire, stoke the hearth.
it’s cold without much mirth.
tend to the spark.
you sigh.
*
this being human is a guesthouse.
pull the sheets, prepare the bed
it’s late, now rest your head.
tend to your dreams.
you sleep.
*
this being human is a guesthouse.
close the doors and windows,
it’s time to make a widow.
time to check out.
you die
About the Creator
E.K. Daniels
Writer, watercolorist, and regular at the restaurant at the end of the universe. Twitter @inkladen
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