I don’t want to blindly follow anymore.
All these endless downward stairs
towards what I’m not allowed to know
at any moment and still they try to sell me
purely on the altitude.

She’s wearing a t-shirt with a face
that is smiling while all the numbers
she is dialing are to people
who don’t even care
to just pick up the phone.

Being alone isn’t like they want it to be,
because if we actually felt
what it was like to be free
there would be no one to clean up
the messes they make with their money.

Courtyards at schools that no one
goes to any more are overgrown but have
a concrete structure built
for us to sit as one community.
We eat our sandwiches there
pretending we have somehow
made it back within the past,
but all those short lived
moments fade away
like all the other pleasant days
you can’t remember.

I have dreams where I am hanging
from a thorn tree by my ankle
and the ground below is made
of only insects that have taken
up the mantle of the earth.

They’re doing everything from fighting
over food to giving birth,
and in the distance I can see the plumes
of smoke which means they’re making
what they need again, and all those old
discarded friends are better off
for never showing up.

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