Some days the crawl space between
the good that whispers kindness, and
the malice that screams mindless
vengeance, is suffocatingly narrow.
Mindless, because it is easy, the calculations come
so naturally. Too naturally.
I am fast to snap, and shoot the flare gun up
to the heavens as an invitation for
outcast legions to march over the hills.
Come and get me.
You will win, but I will be blood soaked before
it can keep me. Madness, before you can keep me.
I feel like I am hanging off the edge of a cliff,
the tips of my fingers barely clinging on.. and growing numb and tired;
on to what is real and what is…
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