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.