Trapdoor

by Kakera   Feb 15, 2015


I wish she had never learned
the shape of the love
that leaves my mouth

to beckon her through
the trapdoor into my mind,

into a walk-in wardrobe
devoid of clothing,
but painted with the blood

of every me I ever abandoned,
and every her I failed to leave outside

because only demons
live there now,

after her carnage.

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Latest Comments

  • 9 years ago

    by Poet on the Piano

    That's a powerful tie-in, the trapdoor to your mind. I really like how you formatted this, it seemed shorter lines and a shorter poem overall from the rest of your writes (or at least of what I've read). Such a strong connection between "every you" and "every her", like you have worn many lives and weathered many paths, and maybe you are trying to move on, but you keep getting caught, battle between what you want now and the portrayal of you from others.

    A haunting, sad write. That ending kind of takes my breath way; it's sharp, almost unforgiving. Like you are just telling of the aftermath, of the destruction.

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