Plot

love is the only exit strategy worth living for

bars of gold
brass medals
iron cross
and you are just a clay figurine
keeping your head down
rushed
running for cover
undone by desires

don’t you think finding purpose masqueraded as finding meaning for too long?
turn around
look me in the eyes
whatever you become I have been before:
a fool

if you see me shed tears
I am lying to you
I am not attached to anything
money

memories
bread
mean nothing since I made sense of my prayers

angels
demons
r
eady to start over when you are

first come
first served
gore sunsets have taught me
not all the preachers danced to the tune of big God

 

 

 

 

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