[I'm thinking about writing a poem for each song off "Curse Your Branches," using the songs like writing prompts]
I don’t know if it was an apple
those types of details are fuzzy.
I do know things aren’t right.
Haven’t been right.
Don’t look like they’re going to be right for quite sometime.
People walking
are half-dead.
Half empty
impressions
of what they were supposed to be,
or so the story goes.
There are lots of stories
most of them are sad
or not quite finished.
I’m not sure any of them are finished.
Ever since that damn apple
we’ve lost our breath,
become a pack of zombies
wandering around
with messed up gaits
eating each other.
I’m not sure on the details of the story
but ever since that fucking apple
it’s been harder than hard
damn near impossible
to be a decent human being.
But, like most all stories,
this one (if it’s true)
is only half done.
Though, if you take a look around,
that's not an easy thought to take comfort in.
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