ATLAS, part 2
restless road rage knots you in asphalt ribbons tied to sunset suicides––glass shards bleed out into the next life full of broken blue birds; trauma begets trauma, inescapable. you are pre-installed humanity befriending the false prophets that arose to test you, to tempt you with licentiousness; condemnation has not been idle, their destruction did not sleep. beloved, do not believe the spirit when it whispers: Your master is long delayed. One will be taken and one one will be left. these are labor pains that go as mourning waves of ocean. remember: your instincts are bathed in your mother’s blood.
bam