Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Zoinks.

You knock-knocked
I who's-thered
and cringed
at the rattle and shake
of rusty hinges
And the door creeped open
I put your pen
to the page
and when I finished,
I wasn't sure how the scribblings of my name
had inked up that document
I hadn't read
the fine print
and before I knew it,
I was being wheeled through Hell,
but I couldn't figure out why
the halls were lined with
children
All I knew
is I just wanted to be
back
listening to the rain pittering
watching that iron rust red,
it dripped blood tears,
wearing away
So finally I was thrown
back into the dust
I'd so carefully
swept
every speck into place
triple-check,
sleep.

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