scattered winds

if distance kills some
and divides others
what is the moment we are sharing?
in this world that’s running
and the butterfly that gives zero fucks

right, left, try again.
it’s a puzzle,
don’t you know?
the answer is hidden
and it’s a game.
isn’t this fun?
are we having fun yet?

the turtle whispers to the hare,
“why don’t we give up this race?
if no one finishes,
then no one wins
and no one loses.
what do you think?”
the hare grins and speeds past him.
the turtle shrugs and goes into his shell.
“well at least this time I asked, that’s something.”

the cake toppers dance with one another
in a frozen sense of time
and it’s all such a beautiful sight.
almost like a photo,
a moment frozen in time.

you can’t see the wind but you can feel it
and see its effects.
a peaceful breeze rustles the trees.
a mark here, a blemish there,
on Wednesdays we were a scarlet A.
notice, point, disgrace.
it’s all a part of the game.
it builds character.
apparently digging holes does as well.
have we built enough character yet?
it’s feeling like the trenches instead.
did we actually fall into a war without knowing it?

if it walks like a duck and talks like a dick…
then it must be what it seems.

close your eyes
let the advice and cliches fall away
let’s stay there



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