I'm writing you one last time,
It was nice to see you that
I'm sure you were a warrior
in a previous incarnation
Mia must have been a rabbit or an ostrich
Or a pile of trembling leaves sewn
together with cross -stitch
I've developed this problem
Cried a little in front of
Ointments and sedatives and antibiotics
Went home with a bag full
The best is the sedatives,
they work well but softly
I don't scratch myself in sleep,
When I wake up I'm rested,
The only bad thing is the strange
in a village with teepees
A woman carrying a baby greets me, says she's glad that I came,
she's been trying to reach me
She shows me around, the villagers are happy,
they give me some wine and flowers to greet me
Their society's based on a
They've dealt with the climate,
Cause this is the future,
I can tell from their technology
But they use it for good,
and they use it so sparsely
They are not but slaves under
The cog wheels turn only when
they think it's necessary
And the woman grabs my arm,
cause she's worried about her time
This fu ture is only one of many lies
That we can potentially walk down,
cause it seems kinda cringey
I think about their village,
what a bunch of fucking hippies
Where some people from the
A wo man in a mental institu
And show her the world as one
And instill in her the hope to
but as a document of history
Cause now it seems strange to
Save the polar caps from melting
by recycling milk bottles
CEOs are flying their pets to ski lodges
How vulnerable it is when someone
How easy it is to laugh at
After decades of being spoon -fed dystopia
I rub my cordless anointment on my eczema
I take my sedatives and crawl
Keep treating the outside,
Keep treating the symptoms,
not the root of the problems
And this time she's shouting,
cause her signal is fading
I wake up sweating, my skin is itching I put some ice on it,
CEOs and children I'm gripped
by a love for this world that
And I think about a quote from
its power seems inescapable.
So did the divine right of kings.
Any human power can be resisted
and changed by human beings.
There's a dying light in the dis tance
that beckons, as the clocks are rapidly running out of seconds,
Take care of yourself, your friend
