consumed and burped out

by love,

the soul?

a residue: like a stinking fart.

~

We have been captured

by the dreams

that once made us alive.

Now, they let us live

~

at their mercy.

task piles on task

and the thin layer between

the bricks

~

is the air we breathe, to survive.

but perhaps, we were captured

long ago –

even before we were born.

~

Isn’t

death

the pinnacle

of freedom?

~~~~

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