It would be helpful
if you were to leave
because things can get
quite claustrophobic
for me.
My lies are deep,
cavernous,
and your presence
impedes my ability
to out-run
them all.
An upper story,
four-bedrooms
is not enough.
I could use another
floor,
and you do
block my way to the attic -
a wondrous place to slink to
and hide in
Dashiell Hammett shadows.
Ah, to wrap myself in forgetfulness
and smoke a bowl of
nothing-can-touch-me.
You must understand...
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