# Untitled 31 (Changes)

by ThisIsShe|Mags



Anger calls sadness its brother –

Disappointed, as children usually are.

Is fear the mother of pride?

You and I were born in the same vein.

Leaking negatives –

                                               (You know the type.)

Too thin-skinned

Caught in lungs,

Trapped with bones.

Yet Grace was given.

 Are you crunching the numbers

For fragile men?


                              Yes, bleed;

Prick and puncture

Atoms split from shame.

Look for crevices

With the sighs of a womb, crushed.

Stretched and murky.

      Are you breathing me in?

Even life,

Obtuse and intangible,

Was purchased with a cost –

                                                        (The declaration of value)

So why are you,

Lingering on it’s credit,

Fresh out of change?