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
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 2:28 PM UTC
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
it's hard to tell what's truth anymore
if it was ever easy to in the first place
