Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Russian Roulette for One

It's funny how the weight of the chest can be so variable.
Free and in love, heavy and broken.
Pieces of scattered moments that have passed and things that you didn't know how to be better at.
Even when you are the best it's natural to temporarily lose confidence in your step.
But don't forget to get back to flex.
Did you have a choice when came apart, did it break your heart?
Have you seen the world that stares at me from inside the window, in reflection on the water.
Clearly anyone can see that struggle is a way of life in a world so sick with hatred and greed.
How can anyone feel elated, when you are not taught to lift yourself and those around you.
Self-administered assassinations.
At the end of the day.
It's a game I never wanted to play.

La Furia/Fury
by  Michelangelo Buonarroti

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