All of my words are broken and stained,
they’re ticking and tocking
like an erratic clock with an obnoxious midnight call-
they wake me with their garish sounds
and the letters are all jumbled
like puzzle pieces
that lay scattered in the wrong box, with a smiling kitten on the front,
when they actually form a demon with a grin;
they make demands
like an earnest brigand,
and cling at me with children’s arms,
though they’re more in casts and are covered in freckles-
I’d forgotten how lopsided they’re smiles are,
and how they sometimes seem more like leers,
with broken teeth and gaps
like Grand Canyons in their faces.
Clambering for attention,
I nurse each one of them,
and stink like stain remover while they dry out-
I’ve tried my handle with a needle,
though I’ve never been much into sewing,
and I found some patches;
I think someone might have to do that first,
after picking up the mess I made with them.
Thanks for reading.
