(no subject)
some of my friends are sufferign from blindness. filled with blind ambition or being caught up in blinding trances. thier recklessness concers me but at the same time i love it. life would be bland without thier complications for me to iron out.
but im all talk. i say all these things and here are my friends rushing past me. im just waiting for all these things to come.
i am an oppertunist
more reason to belive i am full of talk. i tried to paint. i got fustrated. i then tried to write. it just flowed
the dead behind horses
We who are all lined up
waiting to be shot down and tied
behind horses. The monsters who ride them
blink with vertical lids and stare,
stare with a cold religious detachment
at our dreams, our sorrows, our humanity
and laugh.
Dragged threw broken branches,
jagged rocks, stinging insects prick the skin
which bleeds broken life.
And our mothers gave us to them unintentionally.
mothers who don’t see dangerous roads ahead
only see neglecting fathers walking down those roads.
We who are the children of the world
are left to die
in patches of unimportant earth