sitting up straight on the edge of an old wooden chair
feet planted and eyes locked in a silent standoff
a fresh coat of gritty stubbornness
to mask the fear and suspicion
protectively, I clutch it to my middle with both hands
.....
as my fingertips reluctantly ease the lid open
my secrets scurry from the light
like roaches to dark corners
'n-no, you definitely can't..hold it'
(are you insane?
I'd rather run naked through the Capitol building)
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