In a tapestry painting, flourishing on the floor.
A rhythmic tapping, kept the metronome knock at the door.
A life of happiness for real honesty,
after living a lie together she called life.
And a real smile of ecstasy,
without a drug, blindfold or lie.
Hormonal tentacles, strangling the poor.
The only victim is the people who we let abuse us,
since we train people how we want to be treated.
Thankfully those people don't exist anymore.
And they'll sing a song of romance,
How they won the heart and felt loved.
If just for a moment, to feel something is to feel our own vibrations
If just for a moment, to heal someone's aching is to doctor our own pain.
than the selfless victim who lead himself on,
smiles at the new shadow and her figure,
more suitable and full, less stickily and eager.
more independently and secure, less fever.
And all while I count, on the one hand I have left.
For of all my fingers, 10 of them I've slept.
I now move on to toes,
Thankfully it is I taking each step.
I just want to listen to music through the headphones of the globe, I'll mix their screams with the cries of laughter. I'll cross over from obese greed and drown it in tragedy. I'll take one shot to a building and ignore the millions of bombs we drop to compensate for our more expensive lives. I'll bask in the glory of being able to eat the African families weight, malnourished and all. I'll parade around in clothes I don't need, expelling exhaust. "everything i could say would feed into insignificance"
Welcome to my Journal. IGNORE GRAMMATICAL ERRORS, or become my Editor