
“If I didn't define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people's fantasies for me and eaten alive.”
--Audre Lorde
So,
so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have you found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.
This work is licensed under a Attribution Non-commercial No Derivatives Creative Commons license

*Or maybe that should be Animals being (Moby) Dicks?... Now somebody's gotta make a GIF...
"To produce a mighty book, you must choose a mighty theme. No great and enduring volume can ever be written on the flea, through many there be who have tried it."*
(you couldn't tell our tale on a flea either--working on chapter XVIII)
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