Sharp slivers of words built up  From years of staying silent  Fill my mouth but stay trapped.  My hands are dirty  My knees scraped  By the brush I’ve been running through  Because the things that make other things  Go bump in the night  Chase after me and it’s still early.  “Come here, pretty one,”  They […]

https://thehappydepressive.wordpress.com/2016/03/01/close-your-eyes/