Reign XII

The world was ending, but we were dancing
Our merry little jig, two fisting beers,
Smoking “don’t worry about it,” asking
Questions about LD50s and fear.
The day I traded my brain for a chip,
Nothing changed. I was born of Rage and Love
To begin with, was sick of the world’s shit
By seventeen, but not in the sense of
Eating a bullet. No, I was aggrieved.
I wanted only to dance and sing, suck down
Cherry vitriol and spit fire (believe
Me, I have enough hate to go around.)
I will not be silenced, will not be shamed.
With pen and ink, blood and bone, I proclaim.

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