The edge of your bed

A Poem by Porcelain

How i make you feel,,

Sitting on the edge of your bed.

On the edge of my soul.
Brain is on overload.
I’m going somewhere inside,
all the while still sitting on your bed.

I see you in the corner,
head in your hands.
Gulp, I gulp,
I’ve caused something again
by just sitting on the edge of your bed

Like a person on a bridge
attached to a heavy rock
my stomach takes the tumble
and I slide into the misery
of just sitting on your bed.

Something escapes my throat
do I dare speak?
The look that you give me…worry?
Or hate? Hate for me
just on the edge of your bed

Teeth nibble at my lip,
I opened my mouth and closed it again
not before telling you the truth
my rotting insides
my sitting on the edge of your bed

don’t look. Don’t look at me.
I know what’s hurting, what I touched.
Not even needing to come close
I ruined your best age
by sitting on your bed

I’m sitting on the edge of your bed
and you can’t even look at me.
My honesty came out as sadness
and you just couldn’t take it.
So I sit. Sit on the edge.
The edge of your bed.