Saturday, March 22, 2014


Addicted to rebellion
does it makes it alright?
Warping what you say-
you feel, the way we go.
We'll be okay, O.K?
Go on forever like a
bad spelling of

Throw a million arms
in insults crafted like
poems; throw smiling
selfies, "alrights" right
back into the wind;
scoffing like the glint
on a knife, blood falling
through our words.

Thinking through this
tsunami of absolutely nothing.
Then suddenly feel far away,
falling, speeding through space
trying to leave all of this--
the limp flags of you and me
war, anger, surrender, earth,
being awake, everything--


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