Guts and Sass

Maybe life just takes some guts and sass

To rub blindly up against the rough bark of a dream and laugh

at the furrowed trunk of growth and the rings

of years sustained amidst the pains of sins

pulling so hard on those reigns of belief, chaffed with will

power, your muscle of dreaming still

holds fast

without fail

without steering you

wrong

Maybe the chains of life's confinements

are glass and foil.

My dagger dreams come sharp

committed, mapped

like yours do

not trapped - they are wild, enraptured

entranced.

In this life we need guts

and sass

to run towards those mirrors of glass: they are lies

and trash. Run buffered by animal tallow and run

fierce

like Buffalo. Pierce

the shadows of crumpled foil and run

wild with dreams of your own

Recklessly owning your

own vision.