The sky is full of mud.
Not the mud we played in
with small hands and big hearts.
Not the mud In which the world starts,
Not the dirty and unclean, yet pure,
A simple mix of dirt and clean water.
The sky is filled with a mud
of oil and the crushed up bones
of who we used to be,
Who we wish we could be.
(who we may not get the chance to be)
Every quick breath we take is a gasp
I want you to spend.
Pick your poison, it will infiltrate anyways.
You can have a love that invades, a heart that refuses to
Stop beating in the lack of oxygen to your brain,
Drink a stab wound from the earth, and fuel your rage
Like oil goes into war.
Whatever you do, do not
Let the poison swallow your lungs.
Joy, it is to fight for
(It is to bleed for)
Points:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
142,152 Literary Works • 676,789 Reviews
LOVE THIS. i like the way you use mud as a way to talk about how "dirty" the world is or how its become something corrupt. something were scared to touch. i really love that. "pick your poison, it will infiltrate anyways" is so powerful to put there, i absolutely love that line. good pacing. good writing. good grammar! keep writing!! 👏👏