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Mice

Written by Anon

 

I don’t need a therapist to know that

I am nailed to my naked mattress

Contained by bare walls, teeming with rodents that scatter

In my hollow, empty insides.

If you ask them nicely enough,

They’ll tell you secrets of derelict photographs and ashes of diaries from 2003

The mice will tell you I am cracked at my spine

Chest cleaved

All the way open so that my heart is on display for the world

Ribs stone-cold

And an expired voice existing like a phantom in the caves of my ears

The familiar weight in my right hand

Is the only thing sustaining me right now.