Somedays when it hurts a little sharper
You Cry a little harder
Breathe a little rougher
Live a little lesser


When you tell me god is dead
I nod
I don’t ask, maybe I knew
Maybe I don’t want to know.


Speak less, listen more
Okay fine
But don’t expect my silence when they fall
Apart,
Anarchy is the friend of silence
Or maybe it is the other way around