Aaron Silvers

No one's ever accountable for the wreckage of a slow authoritarian coup They'll shift some algorithm again Before another round of cuts begins

cup expectations with my hands, some might spill but I see-feel-understand

Feelings are driven by senses, and my senses betray...

This rhythm and these fingers will work it through

I need my recompense for all things I said and did to pay her bills and raise her kids