Things, they say
they aren’t anything
but things
And the part of me
the rational quiet part knows
that the words they say
the facts
that are facts
are true
in the things
in the sounds
and tastes
and textures
the memories
trapped there
The walls have ears
I guess they say
but what no one seems
to grasp
they have not only ears
but a voice
I can hear
from when this was given
that was bought
or what was happening
The fear in me
that if I part with the things
I part with the memories
and the rational logical voices
just don’t understand.

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