Lean forward.
Everything else does.
Those barbs will tear you up
if you keep trying to pull them out.
Paint the ends instead,
a yellow smiley face on one,
a fist raised up
a cross-eyed dog –
That’s funny, right?
It hurts less when you’re laughing,
assface.
See? I know what I’m doing.
Paint the line with rainbows
and just follow them,
’cause flopping like an angry fish
ain’t doing you no favors.
Stop saying grief.
Call it something noble; call it yours.
Make it sweet and melancholy,
own it like a Sunday sacrifice.
You thought that it would set you loose in time.
It won’t, if you still love a part of it.
Don’t give that up, though.
Just lean forward.
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