I cut my finger the other day & nothing changed. No blood no pain. Just a fine delicate piece of. I pulled & out popped a petal. Thought quite strange so in silence of night I pry open my skin & decorate my cell with flowers constructed from those petals.
Something is changing.
Someone is changing.
Prison is a desert. Lack of love. Ability to eat an apple at will. Such is man’s law. Desire goes as seagulls devour landscape. My identity is more of my mind. My ability to survive.
I live for the sky. Apply to string beads a scattered poem. So now my legs grew/grow stronger & veins run where once death. Transcendent is a remarkable dance. Whether middle finger or my mouthing “I don’t care”.
I fear that to fear is to doubt. To forget. To back petal.
I’ve been ruined. Never one for whistling through grave yards. I do beg Mary Worth in “that” mirror. Strapped & good to go, I’ve said “some of us should never see what’s on the other side of that line”. Can you dig? Ability to split atoms & sell art @100 million ain’t goin’ to stop that river. Man is as superficial as an adolescent wet dream.
Weigh those options &
tell McCain’s token to fuck off. Any time it’s reduced to eyewear – smell the coffee and walk away.
Consider both sides of every line.
Take responsibility & unhook that collar.
Something/someone is changing. & I’ve seen too much waste. Too much death. Lies. Back petals & force fed media compliance. Who are we & what have we become?