Late stage capitalism in the bleak midwinter

You came to me only with what you are

No false promises, I made those on my own

You never told me cliches, like the others

I told them to you instead, so I didn’t seem only bone

But under my freckled face that is what I am

Simply a skeleton, lost if not used as a muse for direction

I always envied the compass in your heart

There is not much left now to lead me to redemption

I am a dream of a man in the night

He wakes up unsure what I wanted or thought

But he is sure of what he wanted

And that’s all that matters, good girls are taught

Before skeleton, I was good girl, then good woman

I had dreams too, but no clear path to follow

My dreams were the sky, the trees, the river

But with them I cannot sustain bone in this great land of hollow.

One response to “Late stage capitalism in the bleak midwinter”

  1. Value has no direction and just is. Because you exist you have value. It’s not given to you by any person.

    Capitalism is hollow if it becomes the direction. Keep following the rivers, trees and sky to animate your bone!

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