Twinhollow

I have a Pack Rat in my head. He never gives anything up, He keeps mountains of memories, Undug, unhidden, never forgotten, Always haunting and so rotten, Mocking me by reminding me of these memories, Pat Rat tells me what is in that corner other there. The last pick of pills, a poisoned potion, A time when you had to many hours awake on a horrible night, A spilled sprite on a sliced up sofa, Some torn pictures terror that torched everything, Pack Rat what's in that corner? Some tears cried over caring feelings, Some glass broken over green paper that say go away, going away, gone away, Broken bones from breaks and big failures,