Don’t know why that thing
is on my brain again
There are certainly other things
I have less propensity
To care for
There is change I save
or stick up on cobweb clusters
The pennies I leave
on October’s damp windows
like frostbite
I keep that numbing sensation
deeply hidden
behind swaggering pendulums
and in dark, cramped
corners
I lack the patience
it requires
to fester
Don’t know why that thing
won’t give me the peace
I had when I first left it
alone the way I should have
Like candy and other no-no’s
That Eleven wanders restlessly
unwilling to give up the Quest
Her face less muddied now
with the sins she took on
To save you
Justice is tempered by the
mercy of Time
The burden of proof weighted
by all who seek to know
The answers
The things I can’t tell you
are the ones you should know
I won’t say them out loud
but they know where to find you
Alone