I sit and I dream, a parasitic dream, where we aren't who we were and we aren't how we seem. Where I eat you and you eat me and somehow we're still happy.
In each pile of body on body I walk by loneliness and loss. I love you's and I hate me's saturate the air's conscience. Us, the nation and all are pinned against each wall being ******, mercilessly. We are ******* heartbreakers. Our ***** are property of others: intellectual property.
In my dream, where I dream, everyone I've ever loved, is dreaming and trapped in a pit of motorized rubber ****** where the rubber pumps and eats, pumps and eats, breaking ribs, shattering spines, ripping esophagus, splitting spirit like tissue paper. Bodies ripped apart by branded, artificial "love": society's configuration. Brand recognition. Product placement. Motor salad.