in the days of being vicious
through the inane,
mundane chatter.
we wonder who will miss us
so very savagely
defying for it to matter.

we proclaim we're not afraid
as we sob
wretched in hurt.
we dance on display,
legs flailing,
face down in the dirt.

...but when the tears get boring
just finally
so sick of yourself.
that's when you may **** down.
eyes so blankly
letting your lips hold the ground.