Sometimes... the blood running through our veins and drying on our hands gets too thick. And for a moment, we forget. We accept that we're lost causes and let ourselves go.when the last smears of night retreat into the horizon, we burn our conflicts and make our own light.
With our beating hearts as tribal drums we run through trees with faces smeared with color and all thoughts lost. Any promises are broken, and any feelings or opinions between one another are forgotten. It doesn't matter that I'll hate you, because I'll kiss back. Doesn't matter that I love you, but you're twice as lucky if you find me first. No one dies, but we battle. No one revolts, but we're free. Like wolf cubs fighting we'll do this till dawn.
Are you ready? Find your aim. Forget what matters and fire away.
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YOU ARE READING
In The Eye
PoetrySort of like a portfolio, sort of like an autobiography, sort of like a book of poetry and short stories. Well, actually it's all of those things.
