Bed
My ivory bedframe adorned with hearts
and fairy lights in twisting embrace.
A persistent and undying metal, harsh
against a wilting, poisonous air.
I sit (perch), a half-welcome guest with my
half-packed suitcase.
The house teeters and it’s not mine.
Is this growing?
Leaving home and sitting on your bed realising this is about to become your childhood bedroom.
