Monday, February 18, 2019

inside

when did I grow so large
that now there is no space
for me
in the crowded rooms
of your crowded mind?

and when I do find myself in that house of yours,
I can never find a place, a nook,
to pause and collect myself?

all these ghosts from your past, who go in and out of these rooms, and linger in the hallways and whisper in the corridors,
and you tell them hush, now, she comes,
and they all turn and smirk,

since when did I become so unwelcome so as to make you come running all the way to the front door whispering 'not now, my dear, there is a party going on'

once upon a time it was just me in the whole wide world that is the inside of your head, but now I am left jostling for space,
trying to carve out my initials
like lovers do on rocks and tree trunks and random places in streets

so I sit at the foyer by the shoerack
forgotten till you call me in

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