and i still wait around, wondering when the censorship was lost and induction began.

life was easier
when it was water
that lined the horizon
and the brightest light
was the sun.
there wasn't neon
and enticement
came in a form
built by sand.
mistakes could be
washed away or
lost in a breeze,
but we hit traffic;
stuck in the
wrong lane
on the wrong
side of the road
because palm trees
don't grow in
the desert; and
the surest foundation
is nestled deeply
in the blowing sands
outside of a car window
that rolls along
like a puppy with
its tail between
its legs; force-fed
shit with enough
vileness to ensure a
good case of bulimia.
just because it
goes up doesn't
mean things won't
linger in the system.
i never meant to swallow.
i never even
meant to taste it.
but the spoon was
handed to me,
and they told me
i was a child
and it was full of
hopes and dreams.
how come i never
grew up enough
to say no?
sometimes the naivety
tells me that
i'd be safer in the waves,
but even without
plastic roads
and neon stars
maybe the pollution
would have found me
somehow.
someway.
and i'd still eat the
shiny brown shit
on the end of
this golden spoon

child or adult,
the problem remains:
i am human.