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give a flying

give a flying

gunpowder fell from the fingers he put inside my mouth until i couldn’t differentiate between metal, blood and fear. we were part of the group they called exotics but we never considered ourselves to be like flowers or anything beautiful for that matter. each of us had a nickname and mine was lily.

wild and shameful we let them shoot, and when they ran out of bullets they brought in others full of reload. twenty years later they asked me about forgiveness, whether i’d had it for them or myself. i smiled at the question.

“did you know evil comes packaged in different altitudes?” i asked.

they looked at me as if i’d lost my mind and in some ways i had.

“forgiveness is a crutch. you just need to learn how to fly,” i said while laughing in response to their silence.

mind controls atmosphere, not ufo’s. the alien that recognizes you is a mirror of pure love.

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