I hide my skull in my closet.
I bolt the door and bid it Quiet!
Each night I take it out.
Smooth the cracks of its surface:
Traces of the fissures of my brain
Warring with the elements from within.
The eyes have gone out: seeking forms
For the gritted words from the dark
Inside. I cannot sleep.
At midday I wake sun-struck,
Spineless. Nodding at the world
That nods back at me.
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