Duct Tape and Kisses

A poem about stuff. I guess.

There once was a time in my life

that lasted an infinity of growth

ever arching towards the golden sun.

He is a limit for excellence, a peak of maturity.

Words were words- flowing, intangible, but words

My hidden friends from the third drawer down of a wooden desk were

dead.

The duct tape and the scissors, a ruler prostrate upon the reams of crinkled college- ruled paper, with the light blue lines.

They were nothing.

No emotion can live in the Boundary, you know that.

 

Not without help.

The End

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