I’d open your heart with such surgical skill
We are gods of the world we accept
You shrink from the darkness
Like a coward.
I sit perched on the edge of a mountain;
On the ruins of safety once clung to for life.
It’s all just one big con isn’t it? Work for scraps, to buy food that poisons you, to run a car giving you cancer, never able to truly save up for that rainy day that we’ll never see once the mushroom clouds have burned out our retinas
Just a hollow hallucination,
Forced to feel their disgust.
Gather your grief…
Scatter your pain