“Dying to Belong”

There was a gun in his eyes,

and a grenade at his feet.

Look,

a revolution,

a throat stuffed with dead flowers.

What a host.

This party,

insane and arcane;

someone will die tonight.

On this street,

lungs blazing,

badges traded for adrenaline.

Once upon a time,

a lady,

checking my vital signs.

Before that,

I was just a sleeping thing.

 

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