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