Pretend tell me you’ll mend me into being. wear me ’til you soil me. pour bleach on my blemishes. wring out my tears. leave me hanging on the line. let the wind whip me and carry my questions away.
to Jaw Your hinges screech for un-cried tears; they strain against the irons of fear, answers to rhetorical questions. You have freedom of speech if you dare. I’ll change my game, but take care; the world’s the same.