spill

ever wonder how

the bleak

and

sorry ones 

work

to 

keep their thoughts inside

to keep them from seeping

from old wounds

and old

places that 

look so closed

to

hearts

that lie awake 

at night

and feel everything

everything

everything

and never

ever

ever

wonder

why no one 

asks 

to see 

them

or tries to look

inside

so

instead 

they 

keep warm places

for thoughts

that gnaw

and crunch away bones

feasting on the flesh 

that keeps

it all 

in