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to protest against feelings

April 16, 2014

You sleep like a log,
but you aren’t woody or hollow.
You race like it’s the end of the world,
but you’re the bang.
You must feel like an idiot,
but tomorrow you discover a sanddollar.
The ebbing tide tickles your ankles
and says you feel like nice.

You are stretched tight,
but you burn on the outside.
You are the cup that is empty
filled with the rising fists.
You are the fern
and the gibbous eyes ringing the campfire.
You are the message
wrapped around the cement brick.
You fly, circa once upon a time, through Room 93
to feel like you, you, and you

title: to protest against feelings ; haley mcbride
March 23, 2014

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