the skeletons
in your closet
are crowding up
the room

one by one
singing their

fucking up
your present
dwelling on
the past

ensuring that
your happiness
won’t last

you could join
the pity party
you could
shut out the light

you could stuff them
back in there
until another

but there’s
always the window
you keep shut
so tight

could open it
for them
and wish them

could send all
your demons
right back
to hell

the future is haulted
when the past remains near
the present’s a gift
only ruined by fear


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