time wont let u forget
time, and its misc monsters
will pull out ur pretty ostrich feather
one by one
and slice away ur body
stciking out of the sand
in tiny slivers
with a rusted nail
i thought i they had dried and scabbed
and i could open them again
but they still bled, ur blood
ur traitor blood
and people come
they want to make it better
walk in with hobnailed boots
treading on ur sores
and once the box is opened again
and the workmen gone
how long will it take you
in ur quiet house
to sweep it up again
to collect all those rabid dogs
the pieces of bone
and lock them up again
in the attics
shove bloody palms
into pockets again
after you've been forced to take them out
to prove
why u cant shake hands

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