robotic trails

the same songs, the same breakfast and the same people

over and over and over and 

replace me with a bug, a computer

fill up my mug with something truer 

transform me from this hollowed shell 

who knows painful repetition all too well 

i used to be so smart 

now my bleak life craves the abstract art 

which once gave it colour 

and a nihilist, my hopeful...

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The Eagle Woman is made of shale 
layers of life loam, which weigh her down
She is subsumed by ten white men who have killed every ounce of her outward nature.
Men like granite who glance her way
Not seeing the feathers pearlescent, buried, fused with the debris of past bullies.
Though she rises up to the thermals with wings that only God himself can capitulate.

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