We take up too much space
Buildings with no breathing room

Forests reduced to chippings lodged in our sock

There are too many of us buried

Cancer-causing bodies

Or gunshot wound victims

Both greeted by death

Earlier than expected.

We live to take.

We live to die.

Playing with space and time like

A child with snake

Unaware of the poison in fangs

Or empty hours

Until scales have met skin

But even in death,

Names leak into heart tissue

And memories are hoarded

like stolen treasure

We’re too selfish to share this space.

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