In A Wooden Box

May 19, 2009
A small dark town in Maine
The black house I am kept in
My strength was cracked in two
I was stupid to believe lies I was told
A lobster has clamped on my lungs
With its cherry, smooth claws bright
Decay is what is left
My private thoughts no longer mine
You put a handkerchief around my throat
It is soft as China’s finest silk
The phlegm is choking me
The doors were locked preventing escape
Throw me down the stairs and laugh
Forget that I’m on the edge of insanity
The inventory of my mind is scarce
There are many places within that frighten me
Open the window and let me out
There are many peppercorns stuck in my side
The sheet has been placed over me
Your mission is finally complete

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