My body is a house
for a horde
of emotions,
locked away
in all the different
cavities of space.
Anxiety rents the room
at the bottom
of my stomach,
coming and going
whenever he pleases.
An open door
into an isolated room
filled with never-ending noise.
Messy.
Unpredictable.
In the middle
of my sternum
is where you find happiness,
her glow
- sometimes hidden
but never permanently
gone.
She warms my chest
when it feels
too cold
for anything else
to live there,
and keeps my hearth going
in times i was sure
it would die out.
Comfortable.
Simple.
I feel anger
in my lungs.
Their mass pressed against
My rib-cage,
tightening unbearably
against the bars around them.
They like to be the one
to break the valuables
I hold in my hands.
Hot.
Uncomfortable.
Embarrassment,
She comes to party
right underneath
the surface.
All skin
and no substance.
My capillaries
burst into patches
of reds and pinks,
the colours
she likes to splatter
against the walls.
Always the unwanted guest
that turns up
without an invitation.
Irritating.
Despised.
And loneliness;
Well,
they like to
make their bed in my head
Wrapped up
and suffocating any air
around them.
Boxes of memories
towering around them
with no motivation
to indulge in
anything that would make
their place livelier.
The lights are
always off in there,
so i can never see them
but i always feel their presence.
Dark.
Desolate.
My body is a hostel
available for purchase
from any feelings
that need a
place to sleep.
But it is the
one place
where the only person
who doesn't feel
at home
is me.
