soul’d out





i’m tiring of

the steep,

where angels

don’t bother

intolerant days




and god is wherever

the newest cocktail

bar is, the latest

called "gecko" serving

tequila drowned planets




minds are becoming

tiredness and palms

up to embellished

masters, towers injustice

across lacklustre coin




futures feel borrowed

with a wrongness that

should not be allowed,

carving up the swarm

with narcissus glee




there’s a canyon

named freedom where

souls are beginning

to leap into, to hell with

their franchised wings




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