A Childhood Bed.

The pain of crying in your childhood bed

When all of your eroding thoughts all the sudden escape from you head.

But I’m tired of rhyming 

I’m so tired of a lot of things.

All of the things that I didn’t have to worry about

When this bed was once mine.

Would I be proud of why I’m crying?

If I asked my younger self that question

I hope she would say yes.

But why am I upset?

This feeling isn’t something new-

Just only new

In a place where it’s only known comfort.