A Place to Wipe Your Feet

A poem about being used... moderately dark

Excuse me as I lay down
and let you walk all over me.
This time don’t forget to stomp
or to wear your cleats.

I don’t have feelings.
A heart, what’s that?
Love? Don’t believe in it.
Never again will I fall in that trap.

You have all but sewn my lips shut.
My tongue dried up and withered away.
My head hangs low
but resentment fuels me day to day.

Walk on me all you want
but know the day is coming soon,
when I will never again hang my head low
or know the bottom of your shoe.

Soon you will know how cold I've become,
how resentment has changed me.
The person you used to know exists no longer.
I've a new desire to watch you bleed.

As sure as the world turns
I know that pain is reoccurring,
you will always be an ass,
and soon your head I will be severing.