Day 25 of 30


one day i will say good morning
to the walls that house all this
simple, the shell of this mess
somehow fashioned into maybe man
but mostly scared thing, a lazy
but interesting idea waiting to
be born or at least discussed
as a bonafide possibility

one day i will say to me, i see you,
and i will respond to me, how when im not
here, i will finally say good morning
to an apathetic afternoon parading
as a perpetual first day of
spring, i will say good morning to
what i’ve become, what the world
has made me, there will be a messenger
pigeon in my ear, it will have made
a nest there with ribbons of my eardrum,
there will be shit on my shoulder,
a pile of it, and i will finally see
it and recognize that them aint my
feathers and them aint my wings,
and say and say and say good morning

and that will be the day night
comes earlier than it ever has

and the next day probably wont


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