my hair hangs off my head in ribbons
my arms vibrate
constrained in steel mesh that i rage to rip down
rallying cries shoot me up and seal over
the cracks in the small of my back
my lungs will not be lanced
they fill and fill but not fast enough
as if someone was stomping my chest in
so they empty in this rallying cry
and our fists pierce the air like soundwaves
IN SUM: next time dustin kensrue comes up and shreds three feet from your face, i dare you not to go ballistic.
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