Those who mind, throw ‘em off a cliff.
They’re not your mother, ordering you
how you should live.
Why not lick a needle and leave a stub on your tongue;
who cares if you’ll sound like you’re always eating blackberries.
Try something you’ve never done before that those who mind
would voice their sheltered opinions towards you.
Like this peculiar powder I got from some guy
who claims it’ll make you soar on a cloud to the cosmos.
Mind the whirring in your ears during your trip.
Surprised I didn’t put this one up until now. This was the first prompt response for my poetry class. The prompt was called “Ten-Minute Spill,” where I had to spit out the first thing that comes to my head for ten minutes straight; and this is the result.