Meat Grinder
no growth
half a heart
truly muted
detonated before the drop
sinning to live
addicted to falling
hate that I want more
dizzy mixed with clarity
the director is a fabrication
he’s goddamn make-believe
play pretend
propaganda
the blame’s on my plate
an overactive imagination
I’m really here
with a tight grip on my shovel
I finished digging this trench
named it “Victory”
dirt turned oasis
buried one demon
I was about to climb
out of my hole
decided to lie down instead
get some rest
that’s when I felt a shadow
looking up I saw
the reaper
wearing a fancy uniform
my reflection on his chest
he barked
I ignored it
speaking up he asked
if I’m chasing immortality
definitely not
still
I’ll take what I’m owed
he hopped down
being so close made my bones shake
I wondered if he had a mother
no forgiveness on him
none behind my teeth either
shovel
scythe
paper-thin skin ripping
nothing out of the ordinary
it comes around
people fall every day
some leave without a sound