Artwork by Rozy Kim

They don’t know whether or not you were down there, because they can’t see people merit their own truth. The others seek it in a different way, far from what modern society can comprehend. We have nothing to show for our works here, but upon arrival we can see our story play out from above. It’s almost as if they don’t care, but simply they don’t know. A lone distinct rock we lived, but from a far they too saw the pink moon.

Not the one coming soon,

But the one running to fix a common issue.

The bigger the moon, the longing for views.

A pink moon with fire and fuel?

Who would’ve thought they too see the blues and the mule?

Proving they watch, “fuck ya’ll”.

So, we suffered as they watched?

No lending hand for the failing man?

Making it obvious pain for them, damn.

Watch us breathe with intended purposes to leave.

Watch us thrive, we often relieve.

Bourgeoisie I: Chapter V.3 Preview

Leaving was their way of saying to us, “dogs like bones fail when broken, (haha), only a fool enjoys that notion…” The saying is only understood in context. Mostly because some fear death, only to figure in space you’re obliviously near it in breathe. I laughed when the watcher eyed me, she felt a gutless beast.

I came back alone and without Galvin. I was prepared with my story. The pink moon reminded me of the others, non-discriminating. She ended up smiling back, but with a weep.

Like a flamingo however, they thrive to flock together. 

Watchers like tomorrow, make you feel like they’ve been watching forever.

Like the birds, to the pink moon, the others noticed meanwhile they flocked near each other. Despite different colors they flocked happily. The anomaly was like good and bad. And if you think your life is bad, well why would God choose you for either? Assuming your life is good or neither? Why the fuck would good want you? Take away an ‘O’, that’s the others missing in you.

Maybe you are the stone that builders refused, but if you can’t handle being the cornerstone then shut up.


Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Budd writes to encourage readers to explore the depths of their inner ocean, an unexplored self, because it's fun once you get through the emotional part... “The world around us is our vehicle, what you'll read is how I digest it.” -Budd

One Comment on “A Story For The Rising Pink Moon

  1. Pingback: The Why In My Budd |

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