written by: Robbie Masso
Claws reached out from the aisle
and clutched my back,
through my white shirt,
and pulled me into an empty box.
I heard voices from outside of the cardboard
laughing about how I put myself
into my new home
by having brown hair instead of black
and a single-digit number.
No one noticed the claws
because you could only see them
with your heart.
Register For This Site
A password will be e-mailed to you.