OW - bank

I am a safe with a welcome sign
that flashes neon every time
it catches sight of ski masks.
It’s infuriating. It’s depreciating…
and yet it flashes its Morse code,
emphasis in shivers
and the spasms of my throat,
like a void that swallows
and swallows
and swallows.

Closed.
Lights flicker behind my eyes.
You will never see me
as advertised, silly boy
of cloud-spun days.
You will never own me
completely;

Open.