it doesnt help to think that
in a sea of fish
we all are but both an embodiment of predators and prey
cycling in the discharge of our past lives
the unwanted, forgotten and cant let go’s
do we speak?
or stay silent as if it were a symbol of shielded armor
are we to be called soldiers or super heros
the villains
oh why is it that life consists of such fine lines and price tags with their hindered labels
cauterize my self conscience, be cautious
because here the canines become cannibals
and the clams regret their belief to be not on that line
yet still come up overfilled with debris of our own making
Freegrandmaa 