Regrets

My clanking kneecaps are the clanging church bells 
Of all the Sunday's I stayed in bed
My shivers, resounding sirens 
Of ambulances that won't make it in time
My batting eyelashes, the flicker of time
Like a twitching lightbulb about to wink out 
Swallowing the lumps in my throat, the swallows of dirt 
Like clods of soil that they will bury my body with and pack into my mouth 
My dry skin, cracks spreading out like the worms
The worms that will feed upon me when I'm dead 
And my raspy voice, rickety with fear
Like all of my regrets. 

-anna sluder 

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