Air and Cardboard

A stack of boxes just over five feet tall

Stands in a humanoid shape, ignored by all.

A steady         drip           drip            drip

Weighs down the middle strip.

 

So heavy, so compressing,

With the top box dismissing

The sinking center facet

And the pressured remnants below it.

 

How long must denial ring

Before one believes their pain is just an imagining?

How much silence will we enforce

Before our erasure cannot be worse?

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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