The bloody edges of a jigsaw puzzle AKA Fuck this shit, Im going home.

I set my feet on mars to discover that it was empty..

This time, there is no healing that time can provide
No story that it can clearly articulate,
This time ,Time will stutter when it tells
Because in our lives things that shouldn’t speak have become our spokespeople and representatives
We gave mouths and wings to abstract ideas..
Here money talks and time flies
But we did not realize that money talks in riddles and white lies
But this time, you need not shy from bite but fight back
Because some of us take pride in well worn road while some abide by bypath
This is it, church of mouth where gullet clashes against pallet
to vibrate in mantras that stand themselves up as hymnals
Hear my heart erupt out in praise,
fighting out against its four walled cage

My tears ran down my face to muddy the red hot soil, clinging to my boots…

Every breath is an act of faith
Because I stand scattered
I fail to be seen, I fail to even matter
So I breathe in like every exhale would leave me shattered
When the positivity runs out long before your stomach succumbs to debt
While Staring at your blue lined paper plate and nothing but crumbs are left
And your feet cannot be summoned to step
Can you blame me for being a wallweed, unable to dance
Cant move the frozen gears, they’ll creek awake when the sunlight creeps away
They are shy
Nothing can overcome their desire to stay silent and hide
That’s why I feel like an outsider inside
I can no longer care when my efforts go ignored or when they are denied a reply..

Can I even move against the dust…

Why so soulless
Why is your face plastered with hopeless frown
You should really learn how to dance in something either than half steps and procrastination
Even if we look like hung corpses flapping in the wind while we’re doing it
We’ll epileptically seizure our way out of the pain
This dance will never ever be called unsure again.
If not we’ll just learn to die on command
We’ll learn how to die where we stand
Because 1 million coffins are clapping closed like a studio audience in applause
in the news and in movies our obituaries will all be written in closed caption
And overworked and underpaid, death will be caught gasping
but we’ll dance like this dance has all the answers
Rain dance till we flood the earth and drown ourselves

I set my feet on mars to discover that it was empty and I was happy.

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