It’s a tug of peace
when you’re content
with no release;
you’ve lost total interest in
relearning what love is.
It’s a tug of peace
when you’re stuck in
a state of painful bliss,
and you dread the old game
of ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘please.’
It’s a tug of peace
when you can’t and
would rather not see,
and instead of trying,
you find comfort in dis-ease.
It’s a tug of peace
when you’re a fire rat
but you hiss at cheese;
you don’t take classes
but you pay the fees.
It’s a tug of peace
when you barely grow
but rapidly increase.
You’re scared of life,
buying 0 at 24 apiece.
