I’ve left more blood on the page…it’s what you want.
I trot out the trauma for my freak flag flaunt.
I’m naked, standing & looking for leather.
I am not ticklish; so, put down that feather.
So, yes; I’m frustrated, I’m scared & worried.
Our freedom from danger hasn’t been hurried.
Time drags on & every day there’s something worse.
Where is the big red line in our sand…a hearse?
I’ll keep meeting moments no matter the lows.
I leave rebuttals for psychotic shit shows.

