Tired and yet not weary
Disgusted by myself but still I keep going

Knifes are a welcome escape
But the fear of pain bites stronger

Loved many but do not remember how

I wonder
If we are all such muddled creatures

Why does it seem we are linear

From the outside?

from hearing the word flying
to
thinking of flying
to
longing to fly
to
learning to fly
to
flapping her wings

she finally
soared high into the sky
amid the applause and cheers

that was when she realized
the immensity
of the universe

Brothers blood on your arms
Coward’s salt on your cheeks
Heavy head in your hands

With such weapons of war
No Greek bones should litter
These flooded dunes of Mars

And still, rouge stained boys clog
That one final river
Gather on the bank. See
The line of Troys that burn