
i don't feel good
i think i'm hungry
'you feel fine'
says the almost mute voice in the back of my head
'this is normal'
i guess it is
i don't feel good
i think i'm fat
In my Gram's kitchen,
behind the table,
there is a butter barrel.
One of those big wooden ones you would use in the 1950's.
5 summers ago,
my brother made butter in that barrel.
hope is a messy thing.
it destroys all forms of happiness.
but it lifts you up in your worst nightmares.
I wish I could say hope is for everyone.
but it isn't.
in time,
we evolved into
racist,
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