Those echoes in this simmering mind.

Jumbled closings that never close.

Choices not made

of moments not forgotten.


Dressed down and laid bare

to myself.

I am cross at my own apprehensions.

Red is the color of love?


The door creaks

as it swings.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

Self torment 

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Morningglory's picture


Personally, I think of love in green.


Self torment is no fun at all. 

Copyright © morningglory

allets's picture


You guys! Anyway, great writing - applies to a lot of humans. U R not alone -allets-