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write drunk, edit drunk, eat sleep breathe drunk, liquid pessimism

it comes

when you're reading one of those books

written by pseudo intellectuals buried

in their despondent lookout on life

 

comes when

       They're writing on human's self-sabotaging nature,

when they're peeling

layers off and off, revealing the

truth of ourself like they're

       gods,

Hermes the messenger, or angels, Michael,

bringing to us thoughts we'd never have grown organically

     that's what they believe,

          what they tell themselves as they prune their feathers with pride

as they impregnate you with the god honest truth

and how did you live before knowing this?

it's been with you all along, kicking and breathing and pushing

     you just didn't know it, yet,

but now you can as

they preach their outlooks like it's a message that

changes everything, that your life will implode as your mind

wakes itself up -

     they try to baptize you

          gripping your throat with their

     carpel tunnel fingers, reading glasses

slipping down their noses as they lean over

 

you, watching their words pour into

you, their victims' throat, as they will it

and all the while they blame

you, because:

 

Humans make themselves miserable

     They write

They bury themselves in all they hate and

choose to burn all they love until

they're alone and self-loathing and scarred

unrecognizable

     They write

Of our hatred for humanity

for every single individual that surrounds us and

How we surround ourselves with them

with crowded supermarkets and lanes of traffic because

they fuel our suffering and

That's all we crave

     They write

On our thirst for blood

our lust for **** ****** war on

How our society is fueled by violence and how

we bathe in it with a grin

stretched across dry  bleeding lips

sharp teeth that rip through our neighbors' flesh

with delight

     They write

that we're alone in suffering and surrounded by hate and

we're wild animals driven to war

out of boredom and

That's human nature in a nutshell

That's the truth revealed

          nasty, gritty, honest

     They write

and that's when

 

it comes, that gnawing in the

     pit of your stomach, that

scratching in the back of your mind

     that claws its way

          down into your throat where it

     squeezes

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
noah
Published
Nov 21, 2013
Lines·Words
66·360
Notes

it's hard to tell what's truth anymore

if it was ever easy to in the first place

Permission

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