Exit Woundling

Head cocked to the left,

instinct still over here,

                                                                              way over here,
and no one had anything to say about it,
other than to just say that things were to be said,

over,
and over,
and over,
and over again

There was a crick,
but if I didn't say it out loud,
I knew it wouldn't hear me,
and I could move to page 61,
to greener pastures,

greener for sure