The Middle

Our flourishing county expanded right to left as

Instagram captured lights, mingled from block to block

like steel strings hiking through hordes of gil’s and ro’s

lead by crawling tunes, into private pathways filled with sentimental letters


No one stops me when I travel these cracked sidewalks

tells me not to meander into secluded pepper drying backstreets

I wasn’t prepared for them or ready to be beaten by the globe

you can communicate more efficiently than me here, so speak up


Shit, this hastily melded path is fucking rough at times

I don’t fear the opening, the way I ran from thrilled 80’s zombies

but the guiding “I love yous” have become distantly fading comets and

I don’t believe in stellar miracles anymore; just want to be a simple happy


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