When Three Become None

These faceless self freaks.
They show true when their fields become
crowded. The sword of vengeance, told not
to wield in the name of Godly justice,
raised to the light of false judgment.
Heads roll.
So surreal is this disconnection. Bite-
sized anger management, never enough to
fulfill. Something cut us. We just choose
to bleed apart.
Our fathers share identity. Our
common “hello” foundation.
No late nights of playing games. The last
roll of perception…


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