pulling the blanket off the window
did little more than let in more light

the early mornings haunt
haunt like childhood bogeymen
under your bed
or wrapped in your hair
or nestled in the crack of your ass
with the promise of some
glorious self reflective explosion

empty walls now
layers peeled and ghosts eaten
bits of long time memory motion
 stuck between dirty rotting teeth

internalized fear
grinding the panic against the pavement
with bloody broken fingers tattooed with
stupid words like "self" or 'championed'

long known patterns
deep etched in thigh flesh
with bones from
childhood future dreams
sharpened by constant
present conclusions

a venerable feast for the secretly holy
the body construct harbors more
in silence than the innumerable
screams contained in the space
between bedroom doors