the password is “password”

long ago I
put my heart
under lock and key.

not because it was pandora’s box,
a drawer of mismatched socks with colours
and patterns,
circling
forever square

(though it sorta was);

not because there was anything
in there,
apart from a
rhythm and hangman’s rope.

not because I couldn’t cope with a loss
simply connecting
the dots,

but
because I got more out
of being alone.

I’ve watched people maim the
base language
from the bottom
up
but I’ve also
seen love expand its sheer
heights.

I’ve seen the ghosts tumble out
and monsters mount
the meek,
but it
was sweet compared to
what was poured in like
acid unto
fresh vats.

Yet, what
I lack in outward affection,
I’ll make up with
homes built from wreckage,
debris collected off
the beach.

You opened
my mind and showed me a mansion,
and I’ll be renovating
rooms in which
we’ll dance the
night away
for always.

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One thought on “the password is “password”

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