Off with Her Head

cellular
soldiers
are suspicious

of why they
are getting
increasingly
worn down.

I see
them,

planning
a coup;

wrinkling
across
my hands.

they envy
every
sober person,

overheard
existing
[through
our ears],

in nearby
bodies
of land.

fascist
brain cells
[too
observant
for their
own good]

throw
bottles
back

[at the
cost of
all their
neighboring
cells]

decidedly
making
quicker suicide
of them all.

Is it too late to Heal ?

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