there are no imperfections

I am the concrete sentinel of industry,

manufactured immaculately in Puritan fires.

No complaints from the head of the yoke.

Leave no admission of potential cracks.


I embody the failed experiment of masculinity,

stripped to be only metal and sweat.

Cut the throat’s sound in nervous episodes.

The world cannot hear a male’s scream.

~

( ❤ Mitch)

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