canary machine
God wanted to leave a mark.
A mark. Not a god-
sized
mark.
I thought poetry would keep me from writing.
I do everything without my body.
I was pulled
from a sound
my mother
couldn’t make.
The longer the waiting
the faster
the aftermath.
Your kid is dead and was seen
dead
by thousands.
How many
likes
make
a past-
Pick up a gun
or scream
I’ll find you
kingsoftrain 
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