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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.

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