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You were the one standing by a brush fire

holding burning embers laughing,

trampling children trying to get your kicks

rifling through clergy, one by one by one,

killing brain cells at the party because

you believed you were so damn clever

to lie to the ones that you called "friends"

all the while smiling under a mask of

what the older elite still call jealousy

calling out your moral infedility is

not just for the righteous but for the

ones who deem themselves right

under the pain of truths arrow

stinging at the end of every release

every volley is another tempermental shrug


Etched into your forehead was a number

what does it mean and what does your master

claim to be, knowing he'll never know his self,

that in time with lines of track that you are

barreling down and down into a spiral

of alcohol induced misappropriated

priorities that give what you think

is clarity and it makes me so sick to my stomach

that when you see me vomit

I'll turn my head to show the last remnants

of bile and stomach acid solution of saliva 

stretching from my lips

that way

you might if you're lucky

feel the same resentment









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running_with_rabbits's picture

"calling out your moral

"calling out your moral infedility"

God that ine is brilliant! Moral infedility, just gah I love that notion, so brilliant!



I almost wish it ended with do we have to pretend to care

Much Love


Chadical's picture

I was in a really foul moof

I was in a really foul mood when I wrote this. You're right though, that last line should be changed. Good idea!

"Where do you go when nowhere feels like home?"-FBMF