Social is the norm,
Posting shit,
Following strangers —
Talking to ourselves
Until somehow
Someone
Somewhere
Starts listening.

At the bat?
Don't run, keep swinging.
Take down any fucker with the nerve
To tell you how to play —
There's more than one way to win.
Misery stacks when you get played,
So break the rules,
Break the cycle,
Break some fucking heads.

Carrots
For the quickest hare,
Stacking coin
To climb the trend line —
It's still slaves
Who build the pyramids.

Power is a carrot
For those unwilling
To finish their greens —
Leftover, shoved to the edges
Of otherwise finished plates,
Deemed unsuitable to eat.

Dark side headspace,
Self-hate spirals —
Going down.

Histories,
Bloodied, shaded
Pride long faded
Still staining our everyday —
Why can't we just
Cut and run,
And find a better way?

Good or evil,
It's all trivial to the suckered
Dead and gone,
Fired upon by ill-willed friendlies —
Would-be begrudged casualties
Of killed repute.

The threat and promise of tomorrow,
Glazed joy and honeyed sorrow —
It is never guaranteed.

Gold
Won't shine
In darkness.

Wayward humanity,
The many,
Inherently destructive.
Victory to hardship,
There's no pausing golden ages —
In time it ruins
Every happily ever after,
Forging new prosperity
For the few.

We closed the lids ourselves,
And moved our lives
Inside the honeypot.

Cosmic joke,
Punishment, or lesson?
Animated figurines —
Confined spirits,
Trapped in broken flesh.

Past the point of no return —
Locking out the world,
Plugging up the keyholes.

Comfort hikes through bullshit valley,
Singing with the echo well —
Our paths, our fates may be declining,
Though by our moods,
Not a soul could not tell.

Exercising loneliness
To counter
The social disease —
There will be nothing out there for me,
So long there's not enough
Within myself
To satisfy my needs.

Existing parallel
The neglected peripheral,
Racing the light,
Each step is a consequence sown —
Look up and see
The shadow of this world.
Then look around and see our own.

Bloodlines eating their own tails,
Hereditary carousels —
Even into death,
We follow.

I'm not a number —
I just have a bunch
To know my by,
To call me by,
To find me by,
To weigh me by,
To judge me by,
Select me by,
Avoid me by,
To calculate my net worth by.
I'm free,
Like a tracked pidgin
In the radared sky.

A self destructive habit,
No thought without an edit —
Dulling true colors
To match a softer blend.

Words eroded through the ages —
If you believe it is, or ever was
The voice of your maker,
You don't understand
How scripture works.