A hollow vessel
shoved to
the rim
with damp cloths
old twigs,
shiny metal,
love notes
all drenched
in a stench
of sadness.
I am a mouse
hoarding
trinkets into
my hole,
forgetting
that I am only
small,
and tired.
And as I cram
the stolen
sock into my
stash, I realize
there is no
longer room
for me.
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