I see the poems of desperation
The rolling hills, sunset skies
Mourning brides, disheartened men
Babies who don’t know anything different
I see poems of court
Loving glances
Twirling strands, looks of lust
Where are the poems of authenticity?
Spoken in words that bite and bleed
The poems that tell entitled bins to fuck off
The poems that sound like grunts of indifference
The poems that remind us that we created the world and we will answer for it
Friendly reminder: it is not that fucking serious. Have a Dr. Pepper, take a shower, and remember that you will always be your own home.
Spew Anew 