We Mutate Into a Whole New Creature

when we’re scared,
or scarred,
or dead,
or dying.
Broken roadkill,
lying between the lines
of a lost highway.
Change direction,
never look back.
Wearing headphones in a dark room,
contemplating murder.
One thing to love about the gods…
they don’t care if we like them,
no matter how much they pretend to.
Life is dirty,
visceral,
experimental,
poetic,
and nothing is free,
but everything is permitted.
Further down the spiral,
we can cut into the past,
making the future spill
into the present.
The missing piece
repeatedly referenced
will finally be found,
making it all worthwhile
and whole again.

Β©J.D.C.IV

2 thoughts on “We Mutate Into a Whole New Creature

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