Mick
I tell him my fears,
my dreams, my days,
my concerns and more.
He helps remove the stress
that causes the anxiety
that induces the panic attacks
which leaves me a total wreck
for not hours but days at a time.
But when I want time alone
he doesn’t know when it’s time
to leave me and let me be alone,
he just won’t go away.
He stares over my shoulder
and creeps up behind me
to creep the hell out of me,
making me cringe
from the paranoia.
he leaves me wondering
if it is worth it
to keep him around,
but when he turns to leave,
when I convince him its time,
the sight that I am greeted with,
the rear of his head bashed in
and his back dripping
blood and gore,
reminds me that
my uncle Mick
died in 1998.
__________________
I climb inside my mind through the windows to the soul that I sold for a kiss in the fourth grade.
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