come out from behind that rock
Tick tock
like eyes
on the clock.
Except ive got
not one clue,
who is watching me walk.
I feel like a
putrid carcass,
inside a white line o’ chalk.
No matter which
way i go, this
search never stops.
Not even once
my body completely 
drops or rots.
Like someone
who’s reading deeper
into these plots…
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