they said we could be anything as they crashed their tax evasion into the high rise of our bank accounts.
they told us stories of the castles of our future, birthright to be better than they were.
greasy, tattered and wobbling, their audacity sold us.
we were new.
they knew nothing.
growing into themselves, they became decay and we believed we could do it.
our coronation crowds were full of ghosts
our crown, pasted on our brow with tack
we nailed it on instead
bleeding for it
became what we felt we deserved every time
every time
we survive.
mouths have two sides
words falling out
intention and effect—
broken.
my heart—
not
yet.