Walking out of the tunnel there’s an
enclosure for some ostriches. They pull
feathers out of their sides which draws
blood that dries black and sticks
tightly to their skin.
While hoping for time
they all work away their darker thoughts,
and do everything they can to coat the
walls in apathetic glances.
In desperation they all try to go back on their
deals, but their lack of self assurance takes
them no where.
They try to bury themselves
to take a more objective view of things.
It doesn’t help them though cause they
never could make it deep enough.
Sometimes taking it easy in the wild gets
a little rough, but every night they get a
chance to watch the sun set.
Teleporting Typewriter 