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By: RisinSun28~

tell the story for the record
in so many ways it seems
to pass the day the light erected
by “had them then” and “not forseen”‘s
courage, might our age deplete it
for certainty, danger brings
forth disease of fear so seeking
kinship to these lingerings
doubt of shadow,afraid of the dark
hot winds hollow out the path
from the bed up to the cracked door
the closet where there was once mad
eerieness in times for bed
said prayers to solely escape
no telling what the others said
but gone without one I would forsake
myself to pincers, mandibles
greasy fingers handle toes,
prickly eyes breaking through
for fright of not seeing it coming to
gobble,gather,tatter remains
reduction of my skull and brains
oh the matter, the bother, send
me a flashlight or a friend

 

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