We’re
all self-medicated.
Some
of us addicted to Cheetos that turn our fingers Donald Trump orange.
Some
of us addicted to heroin that turns our souls pitch black.
Some
of us addicted to this nothingness that’s killing us in little and large bits.
What
if I pretend you’re Sartre as No Exit becomes
all too familiar in our censored lives.
I
expect nothing and know you expect even less. Our match was made in both Heaven
and Hell as we defy gravity and start believing in liberty for all the
non-citizens.
Let’s
redact our most harmful of memories and promise never to take a full stomach
for granted.
We’re
all self-medicated.
Some
of us swear on the Bible because believing is believed to be the cosmic glue.
Some
of us don’t need anything but a pallet on the floor to get them through.
Some
of us are addicted to the spark that occurs when the right two words ignite.
Charles Cicirella
7/18/16
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