Processed Fly Paper


by Erin Byers (14)

I'm seeing blood in the sky
my toes are tinged with red
It's seeping through the system
It might as well be wine
Oh, take another swig, you say
pour it on your head
Surely there's some fruit left
...somewhere
tumid on a vine

You shove me off a cliffside
does that give you a thrill?
I'm not close to halfway free
It's the mutiny I rebel

Say, I'll shift out of your sweep
if you shift out of mine
Yeah, so sure we'll be just fine
Take your asses from my face Now more difficult to breathe
you really ought to care
I've been looking for the olive trees
among your probing thorns
Don't think I'll find them there

Lucky for you
my fruit has always been
on the bottom
You say it's not for you
so I keep my mind well guarded
Watching silent while you multiply
yeah, multiply this mindless fear
Don't pretend to hold me dear

Just take another swig
pour it on your head
I don't see why you bother, really
You're already dead.

Email Erin! iluliana.x@mailexcite.com

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