They whisper incoherent visualizations upon yourself;
clinging upon you like spider webs, viscous  and transparent.

A wanting of cleanliness urges you to look away from
the apparent vocalization that is perceived with their
                         glaring pockets of empty sight...

*"A look speaks a volume of intentions,

I noticed how freaked out they got
when that couple kissed in sight
or smiled just a little too wide
into each others’ adoring eyes
and it felt like compressed air
too many soggy molecules
packed into fleeting cold stares
because god forbid you be happy
and *you don’t get to have love
when I can barely sleep at night
because my silly ******* job
keeps me from what I really want
and I am always the depressed wolf
who gave up on finding meaning
from this **** storm we call life
so please, “get a ******* room”
you stupid storybook happy people
I don’t want you to remind me
that I used to want to care
or that my thoughts used to have
resemblance of a child’s wish list
just get out of our deteriorating lives
don’t ******* come here again
with your stupid storybook ****.

We were sober
You were pushing it too far
I was afraid
You haven't talked to me
I haven't talked to you
We met three days ago
We were sober
We were sober
Is that better or worse
We were sober