faces I used to know now turn pale
as they push themselves further and further inside
pointing in every direction
I shouldn't need so much alcohol for this
at least not god
floating under your gray expression
why did you stop beating? vibrating?
why would you stop sweating whenever you fall for someone?
why did you try to lift something
that must not be lifted?
why did you throw yourself in the stench of the
town's hollow eyes?
why would you stay upfront when it is at last time
to fall?
why did you join the grey faces?
so that you will be shouting from the top
of your lungs in the ears of the gods
that now broke into hundreds of thousands
of reflections in the mud?
even though it's useless?
and horrible
and your lungs give us exactly what
we need
but nothing more?
even though they will be careless with it
and imperfect
even if it counts
and it will **** you in the end?
stop now!
stop sitting with your head pushed so hard
against your chest that
you turn into a mosaic of the town
stop making bridges out of yourself
stop painting flowers on every piece of broken glass
and stop trying to harm
what no longer is there
even though you want it to