Kelli Schmidt-Bultena

I wrapped up those words
a revolting bundle of remorse
Hollowed out a perfect space
between my rib cage
and the center of earth
And laid it to rest among ruins
of leftover love, irrelevant dreams
A heap of a hurt so offensive
it had to be camouflaged with fiction
and feathered with white lies
To quietly slip into the comfort
of the whole of me
so as not to create a hole
you see
Some things are better left
unsaid