I feel like hanging myself
In a closet.
Maybe behind the door,
On a strong steel hook,
Dangling off the floor,
Or drawn through
A wooden hanger,
So I wouldn’t crease,
Drooping, limber, lifeless,
Till all movements cease,
Till like a pair of forgotten
jeans,
I rest in peace.
Sidewalk ›
Categories: Selection: Early Years
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