i have bent my back so far back that it has cracked.
we spend all our money on wishing wells flicking
coins in the water filling the well where water lacks.
i spin words with the thread on this sewing machine
for all the values my combined words are worth.
these words leave me in the flicker of times
where your opinionated self has forced me to
the wall of self-hatred and doubt, where the
key to unlock my skeletons is in your hands
you always open it.