Spring Cleaning

Spring Cleaning

my vulnerable heart,
a chew toy.

my trust,
lined up on a shelf
of all those who came before.

they told me, you know.
people talk and cities
do not keep secrets
for very long.

mouths don’t stay closed forever
and closet doors creak
back open.

did you not get trophies
as a child; was this
a consolation prize?

does it make you proud?

does that mean
you got
what you came for? Thought Catalog Logo Mark

✨ real(ly not) chill. poet. writer. mental health activist. mama shark. ✨

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