There are things unexplained
That lie beneath the wood grain.
Thunder echoes from every knock
Turning my stomach into knots.
Childhood fears and childhood dreams,
Childhood brain conjures childhood things:
Well maybe there are people,
Between the plywood they hide!
...Or maybe it's their yelling
Just on the other side.
Thank God we have one more who follows after me
To cushion the joints of this dysfunctional family.
And if his adhesive won't stick,
Well then I'm afraid this is it.
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