i know nothing of birds
types, colors, or habits
with life I feel the same
when I wake up
I'm never really awake
not like I was when I was young
when I knew the taste of morning dew
the cold air in the morning was a gust of life
as I thrust into an exciting world
my want wasn't the same
I got tangled up in myself
The velcro ripped apart
and I was a lone strand
stronger, better than before
I tangle into more twisted knots
I pull out from those
bent useless
the devil's in the details
and everything else
we build our cities
like ants in a hill
taking what the world gives us
and making it work for us
in ways nature never meant
breed and destroy
on and on
wash me away
like the grainy sleep buildup in your eye
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