my pain is evergreen.

there is no season in which it wilts. it only fortifies itself,

feeds itself cyclically from the nutrients of hatred and contempt and disdain,

and grows taller, greener.


our collective pains are undrainable troughs

from which we are also expected to nourish ourselves, continuously.


I am to accept it when my trust is violated and my insides cauterized

by rancid food.

I am to continue consuming from the trough

that poisoned me.


I am to accept it once my blood has spilled,

and to compliment the knife wielders who loose it from my veins.


I am to make beautiful urns and pitchers and glasses

to store what’s released and provide it again,

when the time comes.


I am to desire the poison and gulp it down and ask for more.


my pain is evergreen.

it is not just my pain. it is ours.


once I have released all of my blood and been devoured inside and out,

the seeds of my bones will fall to the ground and grow, still.


the next will be just as green,

if not greener.


they will feed themselves from the same trough

and must declare it just as filling.

they will release their own blood

or the blood will be released for them.


we are feeding an animal that will never be sated.

it is made hungrier from the eating and thirstier from the drinking.
we are evergreen.

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