The hissing
of the geyser, a snake
lurking in the savanna grass.
An old rusting pipe leaks,

the drip drip echo,
my auditory senses soaring in the dark.
I stand cemented on the cold
grey floor, a warmth

slithering down my leg
into a puddle at my feet.
An enormous door looms
over me, the sliver of yellow at the bottom

reminds me of the family inside,
who banished me
to the icy basement.
“But it really does hurt” I

had implored. They believed
the doctor not me
“She’s doing it for the attention”
they reasoned.

Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...