Not Without Challenge.

Americana Injustica

How many nights,
just like this one…
brought with them,
to roll slowly,
to fall coldly…
over sharp cheekbones?
Dropped from mine,
my own eyes…
saturated in sadness,
nothing else,
besides myself…
on and on my spirit drones.
Missing the beats,
deeply flawed…
without any hope,
without answer,
tumorless cancer…
concocting cures on my own.
in how many ways,
must I prove to myself…
not without challenge,
so unsavory,
and, unwavering…
before I drive the message home?

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