Saturday, December 22, 2012


Momma I'm lapping the
birds on the way down
watching the ledges and
counting the dark curtains
on the cellophane walls,
I'm tired of walking on the
streets robots, and me
being one of them, building
more robots for future
generations of surrendering,
we can be martyrs for the truth
I could swear it casting off
these shackles that you can't
see so why not believe they
don't exist? Because because
it's harder to trust the creeping
black acne of the skull-mind-
we could see what I/we see
it would be blasting off sparkling
endless dreams, it would be truth
of the eternal stars, it would be
motionless eyes forever

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