Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Patriotism of The Self, Esteem.

hands as big as moons, waving in a word storm that is rapidly firing out of the mouth and shaking your bones like American flags in the wind, a breath with a tinge of ramen. it unhooks the clasp on your heart and our tumbles birds, their battered wings still capable of soaring high into the sky, your heartbeat becomes a universal soundtrack. tracing the desired nightmare out the window and under the lamp light. we are only closer to seeking the wardrobe that will let us back into all the normal problems brewing inside of us, frothy beer pints for limbs. there is a reach of peculiar affairs that have planted themselves inside of us and grow like weeds, we ignore them until they cloud our vision and nibble on our thoughts, greedy little voices, that sound like our own, whispering.. come out come out wherever you are ..but we're unsure of where to go because we don't know where we are. patriotism of the self, esteem? but they say too much can cause a scene, not looking to go to war, just something to believe.

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