you're a monster too.
i didn't saw you entering the door
but somehow you managed to walk into my life
like you've done it many times before.
and either way, i won't be surprised
because to speak the truth
my door has always been open for anyone
who wants to let the time pass by;
'cause i'm a living couch inside a high-ceiling domicile.
but there's a part of me that i'd rather keep hidden
a dark space with sign that says "DO NOT ENTER"
yet, like a snake crawling to the lands of Eden
somehow, you had the nerve to cross all of that trouble
just so you can squeeze your way through.
but now you've reached the room that's off-limits,
i wonder how my demons greeted you?
as i spent minutes staring to that door,
waiting for you to run out or
hear you scream to oblivion;
i just end up waiting, and waiting, and waiting for more
i didn't saw you coming out of the door
don't blame me if i already assumed the worst
but the next thing i knew,
you already had my monsters
bleeding on the floor.
YOU ARE READING
Wild Cards
Poetry"Wild Cards" is a collection of poems and proses for all of the uncertainties we'll have to gamble through after taking the risk and giving chance to open ourselves to something new.
