#bluewave
My pieces scattered,
no more sacred
than dust
on the wind.
Lately, the outside
world has felt
cold, foreign,
and alien.
(Especially anything
American.)
Of course, being in this
wave of blue,
I would be hacked
to death.
I feel innocent in my arrogance.
A drudge to the syrup tin,
cheap and sufficient—
the honey hoarded.
Oct 25, 2019
Oct 25, 2019 at 11:27 AM UTC