The Door.

I left my broken heart
somewhere under the sky
You stepped on it
accidentally
carried it home,
crushed
under the sole of your shoes
left it on the entrance rugs

Getting soaked under the rain,
the sun,
cat piss,
and poppy seeds

My broken heart’s been knocking
on your door
since then

 Let me in.

———–

:: Vietopia, March 5, 2012. Cloudy with a little bit of sunshine

4 thoughts on “The Door.

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