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The Bedroom Carpet

A Tale of Growing Up

By Theresa RosePublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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Her feet have wandered on me

Since she was (very) small

And then she changed my color

From pink to beige one day.

I (once) held dolls and tea sets,

I then heldcandlesbooksandreadingnooks.

I’ve watched her feet run,

DaNcE, climb, balance, and fall

Down onto me.

I’ve been stained with her tears,

Herperfumeandherblood,

Her laugh, her *sighs*, and her watery eyes.

I’ve held her as she laid on me,

For hours, pouring over novels and screens,

Rolling around in boredom, or emptiness,

Alone.

Until one day there (weren’t..) just her two feet,

But four came through the door.

I’d never seen those before,

And I didn’t like them at all,

For they invaded a place that had been hers,

Alone.

I (watched) as those feet

Stood quiteclosetohers more than once. or twice..

Her toes (curled) into me, as her joy unfurled.

Her feet ran when those others arrived,

Off of me and out the door.

I watched her grow happier,

And spend more time with those others each day,

I watched her change,

And her feet walked on me less and l e s s.

And one day,

The feet came back,

Except they weren't hers,

And their cleats dug into me,

As they cut and rolled me up,

And I heard her ask from the hallway,

As she stood next to those feet

That took her away from me:

"I think I'd prefer hardwood floors

For our new apartment,

Wouldn't you, honey?"

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Theresa Rose

Writer from Long Island

Third Year University Student

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