Artwork by Rozy Kim

This story is a continuation FROM, which starts HERE

Masses amongst the others don’t know whether or not you were down there, because they can’t see people merit their own truth. The others seek peace differently, far from what modern society comprehends. They have nothing to show for their work here, but upon arrival can see our stories play out from above. As if they don’t care, they actually don’t know. A lone distinct rock we lived, but from a far they too see our Pink Moon rise.

Not the one coming soon,

But the one rising to fix common issues.

The bigger the moon, the longer our views.

A Pink Moon with fire and fuel.

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

Proving they watch, “fuck ya’ll,” and they move.

We suffered as they watched us fuss.

No lending hand for the failing man.

Making it obvious no pain for them, damn…

Watch us breathe with intended purposes to leave?

Watch us thrive, we often relieve.

Leaving was their way of saying, “dogs like bones fail when broken, [haha], only a fool enjoys that notion…” The saying is understood in context, because some fear death, only to figure in space they’re near it in breath. He, laughed when the watcher eyed him, and she, felt a gutless beast.

Because he returned alone, without Gavin, and prepared with his story, our Pink Moon reminded him of the others’ non-discriminating intent. She ended up smiling back, but weeping.

Like a flamingo, however, each thrives to flock together. But he, wanted to cut his dead weight and today.

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

Like birds, to our Pink Moon, the others noticed they flocked in sync. Despite different colors, they flew happily. The anomaly was like good and bad. And if you think your life is bad, well, why would God choose either for you? 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.

-Budd

Continued here…

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

3 Comment on “Written For The Rising Pink Moon (Book Preview III)

  1. Pingback: The Why In My Budd | @VehicleDigest.net

  2. Pingback: Life Of Him (Book Preview) | @VehicleDigest.net

  3. Pingback: #AMWriting A Book To Book A Flight (Book Preview II) | @VehicleDigest.net

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