i've been spending my time
cleaning house
pulling down cobwebs
sweeping the dust from the corners
returning borrowed metaphors
sorting it all into boxes
and locking them up
lifting them onto dark shelves
knowing full well nothing good ever came from having their contents on display
finally found a way to be orderly
and trying to find fulfillment
in that smug satisfaction
and trying to pretend
that it really doesn't hurt
to know that no one cares to look

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