***
take me with you
on your rebellion
of gladness,
say hello
to the lonely folk
and tell ‘em
it’s our turn
to up and glow–
don’t go after judgments here,
cast out all your thoughts
of pride
and despising your betters,
get rid of your games within word games
and take this state at facement value:
we’re here
to turn us all
into the scales
on a dragon
named Passion,
to liberate our minds
through the runes
of a great spell
meant to cast
obliteration.
You mean nothing on your own
you only mean
as much as you listen to the fish around you
before you talk,
it’s our turn
to swim and grow
it’s our turn
to take over the town
like a mindless forest,
to infiltrate the ground
like a colony’s insect nest,
your past
does not matter,
how you ate
all alone
don’t matter,
where you slept
on cold nights
don’t matter,
we’re just
a heady
revolution,
we are
the solution
to sorrow,
just a thing
in the night
magicked for flight,
we’ve spent years on this fight
in silence,
all it took
was a gun aimed my way
all it took
was a look shaken sideways
all it took
was a rage in the rain
one final time
to break
one final crime
where the fishies
‘round the food
in their schools
started to look like the fools
to me
to us
to the cancer kind
the outcast mind
the groupthink hive
all it took
was a lightning bolt
struck
like a whisper
telling us
that we are all the same
inside–
our souls
have a moon
with no werewolf howling to,
but they deserve one,
they deserve an army,
here,
stranger,
come join
my army,
come be a scale
on our hungry dragon revolution
come be a rune
in my summoning spell ruin,
it requires
no thought
just your body
just your time
in exile
just your broken
frozen
hungry
soul,
no one will know
who you once were
no one will know
what you once dreamed,
this is your dream now
these are your kin
this is your army
when the fishies think they win
no
no
NOjakga lgkhaGALKHGAa;a
they don’t,
take a
hammer
a roar
a fist
a pen
sing
Down with Rails
you fishy king,
sting
with sabotage tails,
cry crazy clash-clad demon calls,
take down the gladdest
of sapient sorts,
the cousins
of the ones
who thought you no more
than a sympathy case,
a loser of the rat race,
and scream
out the truth:
if they fell
would you rule them
better
than they ever treated you?
***
check out my book at this link
Jordyn Saelor 