That Place

Like yours, these doors
stay closed
locked
with raking nails and
screaming on the other side
you see
I’m injured
just like you, a need
therapeutic

Patterns
comfort of patterns, habits
breaking
apart into crumbs, not even
jagged edges to wound
just dust

Guarded, we crave
for the survival of soul
to connect, to comfort
the release drawn out

May we find strength
in each other, to surrender
to break in two
flooding
tortured torrents
I’m tired
giving in, if you’ll take me
bloody, pleading
silently between words

I know you’re there.

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About bittersweetverse

Writer, poet, lover. http://madamesweetcheeks.blogspot.com/ View all posts by bittersweetverse

3 responses to “That Place

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