Poetry · Writing

yesterday’s grave;

it is in our dna

like a skeleton in our closet-

we were made through violence

the quake in my clench fist

was the same in my past life;

it is not what i am here for

to lay down the sword and wield a shield like cap

i will use words to diffuse

this fuse and the only bomb that will drop

are f bombs to clear the fucking rubble

history only outlines today

but will still build an empire

an euphoria haven of shields

cutting fields of old patterns

burying violence in a grave marked yesterday

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