hurt

Feelings are visitors,So they say.But I think I might have,A couple squatters. The eviction noticesGo un-responded to.I fear its an infestation,‘Cause they just stay and stay. I’m reluctant to look under the bed,For I worry,What if these feelingsHave multiplied? Hurt.Anger.Betrayal.Longing. What then do I make of my own rights?The right to run.The right to hide.The…