The ghosts of childhood live

In the extremes

Those spaces below ground

Or the narrows above us

The slow build of horror

Within hearth and home

The baggage of regret

Of before

Of once upon a time

Collecting dust

In basements and attics

Monsters living rent-free

Among those memory boxes

Following us to every new phase

We carry it all

Until we cast it out

Throw it away

Let it all

Go ~ Caroline A. Slee


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