behind closed doors we covet

things that we’ve lost

our innocence

ripens with age

then passes away

falling like petals of guilt

one by one

we are lost

praying on knees

faces pressed against glass

vials of confusion

that grapple for time

reaching for air

or just a fair breath

among the murmur of pipers

and the plague of control

we are rabid

morbidly awaiting for another to drop

so we can take their place

among the hidden sacrifice

 

 

 

 

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