Nebulous percolations
ideal futures fly by
pretentious is the venom you hate
but its the only thing you spew
late nights spent roiling in the thin cages
that you still throw over yourself
void like monsters
that you spawned
taunt you as you drift away
all it takes is a new start
but you are always running away from those
what's worse
the unknown future
or the tolerable present
hell isn't as hot as they say
and the future isn't as scary as you think
but you're in a trance like laziness
to keep everything exactly the same
and make sure what you think will happen
even if you don't want it too
will happen
because only fools dare to dream
that they are better than they are