The mind space time continuum
warped, twisted, smooth
streaming forth in its never-ended cycle
the current carries us all.
Relatively relaxed
speaking in terms of dusty boxes
you’ve half-forgotten in shadowy corners.
We put them there,
slid them gently along the floor
each sub-parcel wrapped haphazardly
but the surface sealed tight.
We placed the contents in accordingly
small things in big boxes, sometimes
but sometimes we can only cover it with a sheet.
We build rooms.
Houses.
Cities.
Anything to store the horrors we had
hidden among discarded toys.
Concealed, always concealed;
whether hidden in plain sight
or locked in boxes and buried
hoping that enough time under those six feet
will be enough to make these sinister beings
these beasts we birthed and bred
lose the will to continue breathing
broken, forgotten
dead.