These words scratch our raw throats
when cast forth in binary rage. I lose
feeling in my hands when
I hold you tightly to not
let the pain inside. Rubber-stamped
roadways and upturned machines
guide us up to greatness. We cry and cry
and the birds mimic us; empathy
takes wing. Open the jars and the
dusted shutters that conceal us. So soon
we propagate and infiltrate again.
Behold! We revolt and are now truly
lonely in roughshod arms dealt
over counters where we only have our
fathers to bare.