vagrancy forms the pupil
loitering firms a study
a passenger of the seasonal influence

believe in the homeless
the pigeons and the litter
lovingly observe the unhandled gaps
in our gathered mouthings

believe in big babies
believe in display
the posters
walls
malls
the money bleed
that we are sincere to
and the signals that thread us
to one single box

invited and isolated
housed
unhoused
on vacation
and vacated

inattentive pupils

Your love is a music box,
a melody that surrounds me;
it intoxicated me.

Love me now,
so that I can feel safe

Love me now,
so I feel complete

Love me now,
so all worries bid goodbye

Love me now,
so I won't be wanting things;

Things I can't have

Love me now,
so I won't be paranoid

Love me now,
so I can escape this everlasting winter snow

Love me now,
so I can be in your arms

Love me now,
so I won't feel like an empty vessel

Love me,
like those people with happy endings

Love me,
so I can feel warm

Love me now,
so I can breathe

Love me now,
so I can see

So I can live...
Yet I can't force you, not because I know that it is wrong
I'm just too tired now.

closed, contained
shut out from the
world

alone, ashamed
the self-inflicted
curse

longing for the
light

gripping to the
edges

of cardboard

that is what it is like to be
in a cardboard box
enclosed
in

out!
she wants
to get out of closure
and all in all to have closure

but she holds her self in
she holds her self in, still
holding self in still, broken
still holding in herself and

...she cannot remember why
closed, in a box

wet cardboard smells, doesn't it?
wet, warped, salt-soaked
wet with tears

if someone else held you in
it would be fine to complain
cry out
stop

you force yourself in
you cannot complain
yell help
out

others will hear your cry
they will try to help
you are not alone

but if you keep holding
the box will keep
it is a keep

the keep of your despair holds you in
you cannot get out
unless

you
let
go

not to forget
not to hate
not to lose love

instead to remember them
to love them again

those left out in the rain
those whose box is not held on by their own strength

you hold the keys to their liberation
but to free you must first be free

so if your tears and carnality weigh you down
then seek within to free you
and you will
if you
let
go

and so, perhaps hearing
perhaps letting her fingers loosing
perhaps throwing away the box and stretching
perhaps stretching in the sun, and seeing the light again

i can hope
i can pray
and it may help

let there be no more souls
trapped in
in the box
boxed in
the inbox
hitting refresh
waiting
f o r
me

The metal boxes which burn people’s eyes

Are a way to escape one plague by immersing into another

On it the people are communicating with portraits

That look like deceased ones' photos