I say to you welcome—

So you scrape your feet continuously on the mat?

 

That mat,

You lay your precious feet upon,

Happens to be my soul!

 

Welcome means enjoy my presence:

It does not imply block my doorway

And make me beg for yours!

 

I will at once lock the door,

So you cannot be anymore welcomed!

Your aura is death to my soul.

 

I hope pity consoles you,

As you look find my presence.

 

I hope despair consumes you,

As you knock on my door.

 

My welcome mat—

Trashed.

I replaced it.

 

I engrave the cement:

It’s a face.

The face that my soul embodies.

 

I hope when you look at me,

My eyes pierce you like a dagger

Straight through your heart—

To return the only feeling you left behind,

Death.