JW Bella
Box

Hammer.
Nails.
tap-Tap-TAP!
I begin my certified one-way ticket to being alone.
Each tap creates a metal bond with infallible penetration capabilities.
Wow…
This box feels warm
Like the inside of a sweet donut glistening from droplets of white syrupy sugar
Please…hug my abandoned curves
Shelter my obstacles
Be a savior from enemies:
Caring scarecrows
Prides of lions who succeed in being brave beyond the yellow brick road
Men of tin whose hearts could eliminate all pacemakers from existence
I like this box…more
More than my obsessive regard for cotton candy sweet as gold tootsie rolls
More than my belief in celestial higher powers of gods and goddesses
More than a fat kid’s desire to molest chocolate cake out its drawers
Cause in this box there is no expectation
No goals
No memories
No morals
This box holds all of my hopes and dreams captive
Starving for Los Angeles police brutality
And Mike Tyson’s teeth
This box encourages me to leave to people at their weakest point
Avoid affection from a slender touch
Castrate my eunuch formalities of lust and passion
Due to my misunderstand of how to use them and still be who I am
This box elongates its sides, polishes its exterior, and adds handles to its sides
To become a rectangular casket for my relationships
And my dedication in a life filled with the joy of others
Send me off to your nearest mortuary
Have people gaze on me in times of bereavement
And I, like them, will hope similarly
That this box can savor a piece of what once was.