The greatest fable in life is time.
We created seconds, minutes, hours,
to be able to set goals to accomplish,
always making deadlines.
What we don't realize,
is we're running ourselves ragged
with our own lies.
So we get high,
just to get by
and forget life.
Create juicy gossip,
about the pills that we popped,
and the ***** that we copped,
and the tokes that we took
to forget the memories
we wish had never become reality,
or simply wish they never switched,
from present, to past tense.
Repeating endless cycles,
looking for imaginary life boats
to save us from the inevitable.
We are creatures that search for savior,
in the worst possible places,
never realizing when it's time,
to drop the syringes,
put down the bottles,
and pour out the **** water,
because it's time to get back to real life,
where people hurt,
and innocent die for
no good reason.
On the surface of breaking it,
and making it,
never knowing which one is
quite the right fit.
Questioning every decision,
under the suffocating weight of darkness,
that greets us with open arms,
in between dusk and dawn.
Praying for the comfort we've yet
to find in another living soul.
Coping with the use of things like,
depression medications, tear soaked napkins,
and the slowly dwindling fire that is hope.
We are the world's worst over thinkers,
the world's greatest sob stories.
We are the chances not taken,
and the finger-wrapped-around-telephone-wire-promises,
crushed under the crippling mass of despair.
We are a generation of ****-ups,
good for nothing more than
cutting our losses, and
running for the hills.