venussuperstar1

I blindfolded them, stuffed cotton into their eardrums, gagged them with foul-flavored cloth, wrapped twine round their wrists, but still they called to me. I drew x's on their eyes, disconnected their ear ossicles, cut out their tongues, handcuffed their wrists and ankles, but still they called to me. I stitched their eyelids closed, smashed their hammers/anvils/stirrups, forced opium-laced handkerchiefs between their jaws, wrapped cords around their throats, and still they called to me. Secrets— they aren't silent. There is no quiet, no peace, are too many unsaid words. No more is the closet door shut, monsters