This is how you deal with chaos, with madness
you have always said the world is mad-
maybe a little, maybe more than expected
when it seals itself up and gives you way
first start running to the end of the forest
to where the foxes hide in dens,
day-dreaming of dandelions for bread
and butter, run and find your call
then scoop up water in your palms
it is easier than giving it way to your lungs
because you cannot afford to have fish swim
in your rib-cage, on your back
then tie your feet to a string and let the winds
swing you high and low, into the atmosphere
of giving it everything and risking losing
an ear to the wind, an eye to the branches around you
let your hair down by the campfire
watch how the embers burn wood
into ashes, into a vast mass of grey
like the remains of bone and muscle
be the song of whatever surrounds you
and run from it, for it- this is how you
deal with chaos, just eliminate yourself
minus the night, put out the lights and go to sleep.
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