Sad Labels:
dark poems
,
dark poetry
,
sad poems
,
sad poetry
we count out loud. fiddling with the fragile economy of our choices.
the numbers tell us. in stern defiance. that our crimes are the bulk of our happiness.
the road narrows. and we embrace the prospect of collision.
our plastic faces straining to make the words we should have said.
tomorrow wears us. in the soured fruit we neglected to pick.
we stroke the edge. daring it to taste us.
the distance is obedient. our dirty feet ample payment.
we fumble with the knots in our skin. as everything slowly comes undone.
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