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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