we lived these half consumed lives
hoping that we would not stick out
fading into the background atmosphere
we lives these days
peddling around, beating around the bush
A candle cannot be hidden under a bowl
but put on a lamp sill
you were blocking a full moon
vague beliefs and half-cracked ideas
truncated, convenient, cheap
you sell them by the dozen
but we were made to bear these thorns and scars
to fall asleep and be awakened
Not a second to spare
for half measures
so put in your chips
all in
stop denying your accent
but breath it in
make a stand for something
or be stripped of everything
die as a martyr
or live as a liar


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