Pain

 

Pain lives in a little house,

in the cracks,

between the stones.

In the sounds

drifting in,

the creaking moans.

Pain is in every glass

that is thrown,

shattered in pieces,

like fractured bone.

 

Pain creaks like footsteps

upon the worn staircase.

Pain seeps through the dead space

around the brick fireplace.

Pain creeps through

the wind rustled window blinds.

Pain seeks a way into my mind.

Pain leaks from the dripping tap.

Pain speaks in every rap, rap, rap

of the flap on the door.

Pain shrieks trying to scare me some more.

Pain peaks as it has me begging on the floor,

always leading towards me,

then stopping silently in front,

before appearing,

wretched and scary,

making me jump.

 

Pain in every barbed voice,

that echoes through the halls,

bouncing from walls.

spoken many years ago,

but the echoes still continue.

Pain sits with demons

behind locked doors,

if I unlock them and let them free,

exorcise the thoughts they leave

then maybe there will be

more room for me.

 

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

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100+ all new poems not shared here before.

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Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle