The Visiting Place

This place is constant, but it's toxic
Slimed with dark-green algae and lost hope
I open the door once a day
and watch the line of snivellers shuffle forward
Giving compliment and thanks... snorting the ground
like pot bellied pigs, starving and wanton
Your light is not here, nor your dark
nor your answer ... *snap*
This old, beaten shack stands here as a sign
that you are fickle and crass and needy
it's a diversion that only the weak will see
the distressed, crumbled skeletons that grasp
at anything they think might do in the moment
Seeping, oozing wounds mark this place
and I trudge through it, smearing your crap
on my skin and my heart
It's not here.... it's not now
Stop coming to this place
Your presence is it's only reason for existence
and in your absence... it will fall to the ground
and then rise and flourish in a transformation
from fetid shrine... to stunning beauty
Your name's not down
You're not coming in

~ Copyright Charlotte Sometimes (SRWB) 2008