A Boy And His Secrets

The shut-in shuts himself away

The march of time too much
Comfort can be found in objects
Blanketing their room
Stifled in the sweat duvet
Evolution strangles
Choked to death on the dust of memory
If you let it go, then it's gone forever
These things that had no right to die
Why had everyone else moved on?
This shit is still good!
Look!  See?  This thing over here, remember when it was cool?
It was so cool.
Why give that up?
Why want for anything when all you could ever need is in this room?
Not beneath the pile of trash
In the pile of trash
This trash is treasure!
Stabbed hard by the fangs of fantasy
Made slave the narcotic nostalgia
Adapt or die?
Our skeletons will be found clinging to our cap guns, thanks.