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it seems to me
that everything is corrupt,
& that a bird with only one wing (rightorleft)
is crippled to flight

democracy is doornail dead,
but was it ever really alive?
maybe if fat old men weren't running this place
wars over carefully constructed lies
wouldn't exist
and safe places would be safe,
not threatened to be stripped of funding
(hey, it's cool, who needs testing or birth control anyway?)

truth is becoming a word that is thrown around
a frisbee game
with luck it might end up at your feet.
as you say
'i
can't
be
in
a relationship'
the light flickers quietly in your eyes the color of tree leaves reflecting a piece of pain like a swallowed shard of glass sharp enough to surface still
blind
me
and collapse my heart.
in the quiet
and
the
           loud
in the spaces
and
the     crowd

i miss what we almost were
Fire-like setting sun
Proof of the beautiful day
Peaceful night ahead.




February 16, 2011

© 2011 emilou (All rights reserved)
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