Free verse № 73390
(pieces, peaces)
Nothing around here happens without my permission.
space, taker: i'm sure you give
but i'm not sure what.
Shall i sacrifice some light for a lack of darkness?
What we could do if we wanted to.
Kites don't feel like this, even if
they miss the ground.
It's not a decent beauty if it excuses itself.
(You can say whatever you want, butterscotch
if you say it
like that.)
Me: No longer an open sore for you to gawk at
(this is not a real poem, rather, an amalgamation of running the gamut over 3 years.)
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