Rose Colored Liquor: A Poem From a Third Side Perspective

Let’s get high on nostalgia

and drunk on the way things ought to be

then smash our bottles of broken dreams

then stab at others who dare intrude

on my intoxication of sad distraction.

Slice and gash with tongues of sharp glass

and turn this bar of Living For Yesterday

Into a collection of knife fights over taste.

We came for the echo chamber.

We came for unity.

THEY came for the same.

But the chamber of their hearts echoes to a different tune.

Let us divide each other with punches thrown by angry thumbs

So that we may reclaim our right

to live in


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