Sad Labels:
acceptance
,
sad
it's nothing now. the yellow panic that wears our bones.
the trembling ladder in our empty gardens. where despite all we give it nothing grows.
the hours tell. in gentle stabs. all the beautiful stories that broke and bruised.
the tender meat kept under our clothes. the corners wagered in screams and shouts. what we want against what we have.
touch too heavy. slowing us down. choices so loud. we couldn't hear anything else.
the monsters know us. they're always listening.
the path cuts. with a dull blade. the bridge bleeds. all the ugly choices flesh articulates.
the years whisper. the body's underlying treason.
our hunger the only constant. as we discard our remaining poisons and surrender to the cold.
the trembling ladder in our empty gardens. where despite all we give it nothing grows.
the hours tell. in gentle stabs. all the beautiful stories that broke and bruised.
the tender meat kept under our clothes. the corners wagered in screams and shouts. what we want against what we have.
touch too heavy. slowing us down. choices so loud. we couldn't hear anything else.
the monsters know us. they're always listening.
the path cuts. with a dull blade. the bridge bleeds. all the ugly choices flesh articulates.
the years whisper. the body's underlying treason.
our hunger the only constant. as we discard our remaining poisons and surrender to the cold.
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