Your words grow heavy
the sparser they become, and
slippery as well.
I'm wandering still,
looking for a pain that feels
closer to the "soul".
I'm desperate now,
I can taste his sweat on you
but I say nothing.
Everyone's alone,
but it's a human concept
to be so lonely.
Everyone's dying
without any dignity,
soulless and divine.
Everyone's silent
under the deafening sound
of thought in practice.
Everyone's losing,
and we've only learned how to
fetishize the pain.
Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 9:40 PM UTC
Your words grow heavy
the sparser they become, and
slippery as well.
I'm wandering still,
looking for a pain that feels
closer to the "soul".
I'm desperate now,
I can taste his sweat on you
but I say nothing.
Everyone's alone,
but it's a human concept
to be so lonely.
Everyone's dying
without any dignity,
soulless and divine.
Everyone's silent
under the deafening sound
of thought in practice.
Everyone's losing,
and we've only learned how to
fetishize the pain.
Written for someone else, I imagine.
