I will not be your secret,
kept in dark corners,
where no prying eyes can see,
trapped between doorways and drawers,
always falling into your grasp:
If only just to be turned again and again.
I will not be your Skeleton key,
unlocking the world right before your lips,
whispering the secrets of antique dolls
and wardrobe walls into your skin.
I will not collect dust,
stowed away in pockets,
kept only to you until your pocket-watch
clicks one too many times,
time runs out.
The longer I'm trapped here,
the faster this unravels.
With only my mind and hands for survival,
I've nothing to do but to
pick this apart til there's