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Marshall CB Hiatt
Poems
Jan 2014
Bumps, bones. Blight.
Cookie cutter templates for every soul in a building.
Sheep.
They are not the same. We are not the same. You are not.
The same.
She can speak words I've never heard before,
but she doesn't say my name.
That's okay.
I could listen to her for days.
She doesn't say her own name.
That's step one.
Written by
Marshall CB Hiatt
21/M/Salt Lake City
(21/M/Salt Lake City)
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