I like having secrets.
They are the curves at the edge of a smirk to myself,
The reason I keep quiet,
Why I listen first.
The inner demons raise havoc and hands,
going parallel with the thumping
inside my skeleton.
I like the ability to control
the walls I let down and who can enter
and climb up.
I like to dangle people over my cliff
and see if they can handle it.
If someone can bare the brash
and ash
on the surface of my skin
before attempting to burrow in a place
deep down in the graveyard and marrow.
Assuming some human is a brave enough fellow
to sink in, blindly.
Stick around,
clog my pores without suffocating me...
~Tina Meeks
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