they used to whisper

behind broken alleys

that we were

locks and keys

interwined.

the weight of suffocating in this pit

of lies they put up with

is something

my chains couldn't hold

longer.

i was tarnished,

no authentic brand

of blasted metal polish

could make rust—

my rust

shine beautifully again.

I stopped finding solutions

when I knew the locksmith

faked a smile

and said that we were

ready to go.