Six Feet

Feel but don’t succumb

Internal Monologue:
The blisters on my mind
Flaw my words

Making me bitch
‘Bout not having friends
Sins, wins, and making false
Citizens
I rest my feet on the undisturbed
Jade of political games
Lift my head, drink the rains at the
Base, the resident state, the absent
Gate
Burning in meditation of the Lock
Down on my knees, but they can’t
See
The cassia streets, or feel the spice

Inside of me – I’m
Tangling and Babbling
Enrapturing to fracturing
A traveler inexplicably
Returns to me a magic
Calm
Wind, A sacrificial friend
Are we six feet apart, or
Six feet under?

The blisters on my mind
Flaw my words

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