Musings by The Poet Loriet
The Doormat
Don't worry about me.
I have no feelings.
I never get hurt.
If you cut my wrists,
I wouldn't even bleed.
I'm not really human,
just a doormat.
Wipe your feet good
before you leave me.
I'll just wait here,
dependable as any
inanimate object can be.
I'll anticipate your knock,
hope someone will let you in
so you can share your dirt with me,
let your bugs crawl on my face,
trample me under your heels,
and I'm so damn stoic that
I won't even flinch.
Do it harder,
grind it in,
screw me again.
I'll just wait...
right here.
Lori Beal
I have no feelings.
I never get hurt.
If you cut my wrists,
I wouldn't even bleed.
I'm not really human,
just a doormat.
Wipe your feet good
before you leave me.
I'll just wait here,
dependable as any
inanimate object can be.
I'll anticipate your knock,
hope someone will let you in
so you can share your dirt with me,
let your bugs crawl on my face,
trample me under your heels,
and I'm so damn stoic that
I won't even flinch.
Do it harder,
grind it in,
screw me again.
I'll just wait...
right here.
Lori Beal
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The Doormat
The Doormat