By Mackenzie Kae
“don’t let the world -”
the world already beat me, baby.
it sucked everything out of me
like a leech or a hospital waiting room.
how could i stand a chance?
have you seen the size of the world?
i’m a tiny speck sitting
cross-legged in my backyard.
an ant all dressed in black,
because it’s always the funeral of personal style.
it’s always the funeral of the dream
of becoming something greater.
the leeches keep leeching.
the waiting rooms keep waiting.
i spend all day switching between
job listings and a calculator.
how can i be good, john?
how can i be good if i’m beat, baby?