we are miniature small and unholy
we are tiny angry and lonely
we are fighters with testimony
tired eyes and bony fingers
we are miniature
fluid and still glued to scriptures
the paintings we propose
leave light broken in our windows
the ground cracks and halters at our toes
and we still keep our head up and
rise above the lies & the battery
tells wishes sunken in wells to sneak up
the sides to jump behind our belts
but the sky’s never too far to climb to
digging ourselves deeper into the ground
only gave us more ground to fly from
buzzing and zip lining through the night
with what some might say is wit
but i would say is might
i set fire to the rain
i set fire to the sky
