Monday, November 14, 2011


There are closets in my mind
I’ve locked a lot of things in them.
Old hurts, past dreams
Quite a few people
I’m opening them one by one
I sweep out the skeletons and brush away the dust
They’re empty now
Only the dry stench of bones still clings

(Yes, bones do smell. At least old animal ones do. Trust me on this.)

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