_Life is just the façade of plastic_ – plastic money; currency crafted
from synthetic dreams, one's plastic love; affections moulded in
artificial forms. Too much of the latter; a toxic one's greatest trait.
Plastic taste; threads of regret cling to my teeth – my palate’s
insides churns; the words of people made of plastic bullets; still
their weight hurts.
Gazes of a select few friends resemble patient crows, observing
the burdens you bear in a plastic bag of your baggage. A course of
those processed foods; processed natural flavours – _sprinkle a little
more sugar to add weight to that plastic container._
“You don’t really match my flavour,” I wouldn’t know how it
really tastes – _my heart;_ I’d love to give you a taste, but it’s often
filled with so much hate. And as I try not to break what holds my
food for thought; I keep my dreams on a plastic plate.
_But even plastic breaks,_ just with the right weight.
So tell me, why are you trying to carry the weight of the world?
Feb 11, 2025
Feb 11, 2025 at 2:55 AM UTC
_Life is just the façade of plastic_ – plastic money; currency crafted
from synthetic dreams, one's plastic love; affections moulded in
artificial forms. Too much of the latter; a toxic one's greatest trait.
Plastic taste; threads of regret cling to my teeth – my palate’s
insides churns; the words of people made of plastic bullets; still
their weight hurts.
Gazes of a select few friends resemble patient crows, observing
the burdens you bear in a plastic bag of your baggage. A course of
those processed foods; processed natural flavours – _sprinkle a little
more sugar to add weight to that plastic container._
“You don’t really match my flavour,” I wouldn’t know how it
really tastes – _my heart;_ I’d love to give you a taste, but it’s often
filled with so much hate. And as I try not to break what holds my
food for thought; I keep my dreams on a plastic plate.
_But even plastic breaks,_ just with the right weight.
So tell me, why are you trying to carry the weight of the world?
