Shiny Roaches

These fences bore me.

I’m tired of being taped into boxes.

I want to frolic with the foxes.

Do the tango in the woods, tangles and pine needles in my lover’s hair.

Be apart of the coven, the only to do list taking cherry pies out of the oven.

I’m tired of paying taxes to build a more corrupt world.

I’m exhausted from 9 to 5 and overtime.

Only the innocent are charged for their crimes.

Traffic.

I want to exchange bread and sugar with the lovely woman next door.

Dreams are things of the past because we’ve decided adding extra zeroes makes it easier to play the hero.

Why can’t we just live?

Sell our goods and trade with our neighbors.

Have communities where not everyone is a stranger.

Specialties. Trades. Arts.

No more monopolies or monotonous hypocrisies.

An ability to exist as we were designed to.

To cultivate ourselves.

Have the time to actually know our friends.

It’s just out of reach, like a bend that never really seems to end.

What I would give to just exist in a different land...

A place where dreams come true and no billionaires are stacked against you.

Somehow though, I know it to be true.

That eventually the bitches would see it through, devils parading in handsome suits too.

The darkness would prevail once more because somehow all the perverted come back again.

They creep back through the cracks, shiny roaches after the hero’s final stand.

Written by Minerva Violet