iAM Spring Poetry 2020 Zine

Page 43

iAM POETRY 2020

I hurt easily Freely Like a river filling every crevice of a desolate land. Cause I feel Too fast Like sensations of Hot water that stings on dry skin but what for? I snap easily Wildly Like a willow who weeps in wild winds. Cause I invest Too deep Like the roots of a tree but for what? Blame it on hope Who tells me not all fish are sharks And so I swim. Blame it on desires Who tell me my sensations can bring me power And so I indulge. Blame it on perception That masks all wrong intentions Blame it on the ego Who knows not how to let go Blame it on me Who to a degree Can’t grasp that what will be will be Accelerating out from the sea Tryna surf above the bullshit. Attention: “We need an anchor for this artsy banshee.”

p. 43

“Big Bag of Smoke”


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