This is all trash
All fake.
I've said it before,
But this perception of life is much too like
Snakes.
People come up on you and present you with a smile
Even when they're getting ready to attack
But despite this, we all give into what the world has come to
Blaming technology, for God's sake!
(I have no idea when I wrote this or what triggered it but I randomly just found it. I had to title it just now so I'm not sure if the title makes sense to the poem itself but I'd like to think my work can be interpreted in many ways. Might as well upload it, eh? If you'd like to contact me, please follow me on Instagram: @life.mazi)
About the Creator
LIFE MAZI
A RELIC OF GROWTH
Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson3 days ago in Fiction
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