You shut me out.
I'm not fooled by transient, minute issues. But I was shut out by you.
"You", the ruler of all typography.
Let's take a moment, and digest every
"YOU", "shut", me, OUT, with capital letters.
Can you feel the weight of the words?
The crushing effect of your spindly fingers?
The piercing sight of that locked clock?
What were you thinking when you locked me out?What were you thinking
as in what were you really
thinking about before and right at forty-eight minutes after midnight?
But there was no ticking, no strike. It was for me to find out.
How can I heal this gaping wound?