for the devil to eat when
it gets hungry from
whispering in my ear
you're the special one
who's as vulnerable as
you and so I wilfully
play in a sandbox of
everyone else's guilt and
shame because why not
accept guilt and shame,
amass more chips for the
devil to eat, to hell with
hunger dollars, who's
as accepting of discomfort
as me, only of course I
once stopped Frank dead
in his tracks, as he charged,
head down towards me,
no, I bellowed, I don't
roughhouse as this age
or never, and so yes,
there are needles you can
aim to prick at
my centre of gravity,
or lack thereof and
an eternity spent in the
form room, waiting for my
shoulders to broaden
and my stance to harden.
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