salvation seldomly succumbs to desperation
solitude is swinging it’s black bat at my ribs.

i must be insane.

all i am is a culmination of
things upon things.

i located meaninglessness
waiting solemnly in aisle twenty three.

for me to fall in love with it,
treat it with care.

allow it to define me.

meaninglessness makes me new for a moment,
serves as a symbol of my normality.

i walk along the road that my colossal brother
has paved in silicon and encrusted with diamonds.

bodies upon bodies are suffocating just below.
expired coal in their eyes, noses and mouths.

not a soul on the surface seems to mind that
silicon and diamonds seldomly serve as salvation.

we are all born sane.

it’s the neon.
it’s the money.
it’s the plastic people.

....

mass megalomania.