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From The Inside


You made me your box

You told me when to open and close myself

But to you only

I was your box

You would tell me to open

You would reach your hand in

And you'd pull out a part of me each time

You whispered in my ear

“don't tell your mom”

Because evidently,

It was not your job to open me

But you knew that

 

Didn't you?

 
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