she hides under my bed
next to ragged albums
of memories grown stale
between the pages
that is where she rests
her weary head
so weary from the
lonely and cruel thoughts
that twist and pull
her heart her mind
that punch and pinch
and scream at her
not in her dreams
but her real life nightmares
her tears nothing more
than little pieces of dust
falling softly and floating away
her sobs nothing more
than quiet whispers
that fall dead against
the nights air
do you want to hug her
maybe even love her
at least touch her
see if her skin is smooth
and silky and sweet
to the lips
the tongue the teeth
do you want to hear her speak
take her words and gnaw on them
grind them and swallow
the little pieces you want to hear
from your lips
will her thoughts her feelings
her fucking life
drip down your chin for you
to smear with the back
of your calloused and shaking hand
how close do you think you can get
as you enter the room
each step creaking
the floor reluctantly
letting you lower
your knees your hands
your soft belly and nose
heart pounding and mouth watering
tell me
do you even dare

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