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Megan Sep 2019
I screamed in my heart
-just one more mile-
As I scratched at my chest
-keep me a while-
Motel 6 with an arco out front
But we passed it like we were on the run
So fast but
the fuel that kept us going was running past

A little line

Like a race
And I’m the hare in first place
I took it for granted
Forgot my own morals
And you were the tortoise who would have endured the miles
And just like the rats in their cage
We chewed through the bars that kept us from exploration only to be caught up
In exasperation
I’m tired
Too tired
And we got sick
Of the race — of keeping up with each other and in the end
We couldn’t put us back together again
I mean like rough rough y’all...
Is paradise an afterlife, or is it a feeling?
A release of being, freedom  
a soul unwrapped?

Is paradise a pasture, litter with green luster,
forbidden fruit, collecting in heaps of loot?
A sanctuary?

Is paradise a common place?
A corner of space, where again I will see your face?
A haven?

I only hope, the after life has rope
Incase it's not what we expected.

I hope you're there, aware
of who I am
The many questions we ask about what comes next.

— The End —