Heart Renovations

You stand next to me
in my room of pain,
with a bucket of bleach
and two sponges.

We scrub away at
the dirty walls,
at the dark blood stains
that form the words
of my horrors.

The stains lighten to rose-pink;
They maybe lightened
but they're still permanent.

You constructed a window:
my secret entrance.
You informed me matter-of-factly.

You slide the window up
to allow the stench of decay
to be released into the night.

We paint the walls a blue,
that matches my eyes at their
highest point of joy.

The rose-pink blood stains?
After three coats of paint
they're concealed, but
they have not gone away.

I hang up a red velvet
curtain over the window.
It keeps out unwanted intruders.

You slip a silver tarnished key
into your pocket.
Just in case I find my
window locked.

I watch you with
injured-rabbit eyes,
while I run my hand
against the chain to
the key hidden under my shirt.