No Entry

 i built a time machine out of promises and lies. it almost worked. 

i tamed the past in fits of rage and denial. 

it's over now. has been over a long time. but flesh sometimes refuses to forget. 

those little locks remain. those seldom keys sometimes whisper. about what might still be inside unopened boxes. 

these bodies are full of broken crayons and missing colors. an hysteria of dots left unconnected. 

we shout at the truth. pictures half drawn. pencils misplaced.

we shout at the truth. convinced it can still be persuaded.

but those little locks remain unconvinced.